Three Magic Words
by Bella Kundu
Summary: There are infinite ways you can tell someone that you love them. Chapter 19 - Blaine comes to school with bruises from his dad and Kurt comforts him and tells him he loves him.
1. Christmas

**This is a new prompt fanfiction exploring ways in which Kurt and Blaine could say "I love you" to each other. You may review and give me prompts for any situation in which you would like Kurt and Blaine to say that they love each other, and I will write them. You can be as specific or as vague as you like; your wish is my command! This is inspired by _impromptucoffee_'s amazing story, "Hug." She gave me the first prompt for this:**

_How about a Christmas 'I love you?' - maybe Blaine could bring in some mistletoe and really be in the Christmas spirit and Kurt is laughing at his goofiness and says he loves him. It can be when they're on their own or during a Warblers meeting possibly._

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><p><strong>Christmas<strong>

Blaine took the steps up to Kurt's room two at a time, bounding eagerly into the exquisitely furnished bedroom. It had taken a while to grow accustomed to Kurt's extravagant sense of home decorating, and Blaine still sometimes felt the need to tiptoe around the room in fear of messing something up. You could never know what was precious vintage fabric that couldn't be disturbed. Not today, however. It was the first of December, and, in Blaine's opinion, high time that Kurt give up his intricate color schemes and give in to Christmas spirit.

That explained the wreath and green sprig of mistletoe Blaine was carrying into Kurt's room. Kurt was trailing behind, brushing off his bed with the tips of his fingers and halfheartedly protesting, "Blaine, you're dropping pine needles all over everything. How am I supposed to get all of these out of my room? And aren't wreaths supposed to go outdoors?" Kurt held up a small handful of stray pine needles he'd collected.

"They smell good," Blaine said simply, as if that was reason enough not to care that the wreath was making a mess. "And besides, you're lucky I'm not dragging a tree in here."

"I don't even believe in God," Kurt muttered. "Why does everything have to be so ridiculously Christmas-y?"

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine sighed, "can't you just look at Christmas as a time to be happy and thankful and giving?"

Blaine's wide grin lit up the whole room, and Kurt didn't have the heart to prevent him and his idea of decorating. "Giving, right. So _that's _why I'm letting you put this Christmas stuff all over my room."

Blaine didn't bother to argue back, and looked around for a chair to step on so that he could hang the mistletoe over the door. "Can you hang this up? I can't reach without something to stand on," he asked, holding out the sprig.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "No, hobbit," he teased, reaching out to mess up Blaine's curls, which for once were not carefully gelled into perfection. Kurt laughed at the expression of disappointment on Blaine's face and continued, "You can hang it up, but not under my doorway. What's going to happen when Finn comes in to get something?"

Blaine raised his thick eyebrows and nodded. He knew about Kurt's previous crush on Finn. "Okay, then… so, where are you going to put it?"

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him over to the bed, pushing on his shoulders to make him sit. "How about right here?" he asked, looking up at the ceiling over the bed.

They hung the mistletoe, and Kurt sat on the bed, curling his legs underneath himself. He pulled Blaine in for a soft, warm kiss. "Despite your ridiculous ideas about Christmas spirit," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips, "I must say, I'm a fan of the mistletoe."

Blaine's laughter shook both their bodies. He drew away and smirked at the slightly disappointed look in Kurt's clear blue eyes. "Later," he said. "Right now, do you have scissors and white paper?"

Kurt delicately arched one eyebrow. "Why?"

Blaine grinned excitedly. "To make paper snowflakes!"

Kurt sat back on his heels and narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Snowflakes. Remind me how old you are?"

"You're trying to tell me you've never made a paper snowflake?" Blaine asked incredulously. "Isn't that required to pass kindergarten or something?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Of course I've made one, silly. But, seriously? Now?"

Blaine blushed a little. "Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

Kurt giggled and pulled Blaine in for another kiss. "Nothing's wrong with that. That's why I love you."

Blaine inhaled sharply. Kurt had never said that before. Had he really meant it, or was it intended the same way Kurt loved hair products and moisturizing cream?

Kurt's lips stopped moving against Blaine's, and he tucked his face into Blaine's neck, hiding it. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize…"

Blaine took hold of Kurt's slim shoulders and pushed him back a little, far enough away so that they could see each other's eyes even though their foreheads were almost touching. "Shhh," Blaine interrupted, putting a finger against Kurt's pink lips. "I love you, too."

Kurt's crystal eyes brightened. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Blaine said, more sure of it than he'd ever been about anything. "And now, I do believe we're still under the mistletoe…" He didn't need to continue as Kurt pressed his hands to either side of Blaine's face and brought their mouths tenderly back together. _This_ was what Christmas was _really _about.

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><p><strong>My first Glee fanfiction. I hope you all liked it! Read, review, and, most importantly, prompt!<strong>


	2. Always

**This prompt was given to me by _Taylur_:**

_Say "I love you" during the Harry Potter premiere. Blaine goes all out costume. Kurt just wears a Gryffindor scarf. Cuz he loves scarves._

**I know some of you probably aren't familiar with Harry Potter, so I've written this in a way that doesn't require any real knowledge of Harry Potter to enjoy it. There is lots of Klaine fluff either way. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Always<strong>

Blaine and Kurt stood in the bathroom of Blaine's dormitory at Dalton, Blaine standing by the sink and fussing with his hair while Kurt paced back and forth before the mirror, scrutinizing his appearance carefully. Kurt adjusted the striped scarf around his neck and cast an impatient look at Blaine for what felt like the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. He and Blaine were going to the premiere of the final Harry Potter movie together - at least they were if Blaine managed to get ready on time. Kurt didn't see the point of his boyfriend's apparent need to attend the movie in costume. "Red and yellow looks funny on me," Kurt said, picking yet again at the scarf Blaine had insisted he wear. _("You've got to do _something_, Kurt. At least put on the scarf if you won't go in costume.")_

Blaine frowned at his own reflection in the mirror and answered absently, "It's red and _gold_, Kurt, everybody knows what the Gryffindor colors are." Blaine ran his fingers through his hair, his eyebrows furrowing as he groaned and began his attempt to style it all over again. "It still doesn't look right, it's going to ruin the whole effect!" he snapped to no one in particular.

Kurt looked on, half amused and half exasperated. Blaine was so cool and level headed. How could he be so worked up over what he wore to a movie? Kurt knew from experience not to question Blaine when it came to Harry Potter, though. "Harry is supposed to have messy hair; maybe if you didn't try to perfect the messiness so much it would look more realistic," he suggested, biting back a chuckle.

Blaine shook his head. "Speaks the one with perfectly straight hair. You'd empathize if you had curls."

Kurt smiled. "Well, if my opinion matters at all, _I _think the curls are adorable." When Blaine didn't answer and only knitted his eyebrows further together, Kurt sighed and moved behind Blaine. "Here, let me," he offered. "I'm better with hair than you are." Blaine lowered his hands and let Kurt's nimble fingers take over, running through the thick chocolate curls and brushing against Blaine's scalp. Blaine shivered involuntarily.

"There we are," Kurt said moments later. "Good enough for you?"

Blaine stared at his reflection and nodded appreciatively before tucking in his white button down shirt and knotting a Gryffindor tie about his throat. Kurt picked up the makeshift robe from where it hung on the back of a chair and held it out, helping Blaine slip his arms into it.

"Just because I'm helping you with your costume doesn't mean I don't think dressing up for this is insane," Kurt clarified unnecessarily.

"I still don't get how you can have read all the books and not be in love with the series," Blaine said disapprovingly. "It's your only flaw."

Kurt smiled and nipped at Blaine's earlobe. "But you love me anyway."

"Yes, I do."

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><p>"They didn't have Red Vines at the concession stand," Blaine growled half an hour later as he and Kurt settled into their seats at the movie theater.<p>

Kurt rubbed his boyfriend's shoulder, pressing his lips together as he tried not to laugh. "Well, they did have Twizzlers."

"They are _not _the same thing," Blaine protested emphatically. Kurt was about to argue back when the lights dimmed and Blaine suddenly leaned forward as he whispered to Kurt, "It's starting."

"I can see that," Kurt whispered back. "Now, shh, you don't want to miss it…" he trailed off as the opening music began playing.

For the next hour, the two boys sat enthralled as dragons and spells and wizards flashed across the screen and were reflected in their rapturous eyes. Kurt had never before understood what people found so captivating about the Harry Potter series. But now, as he watched love blossom and magic fill the theater, he found himself knowing for the first time what Blaine meant when he said that Harry Potter was a lifestyle and a belief, not just a collection of books and movies. As Kurt watched a greasy haired outcast give up his heart and life for a woman who never reciprocated, he leaned his head against Blaine's warm, good smelling shoulder and slipped his arm though Blaine's when the vow of "always" slipped from Snape's lips.

Kurt saw Harry sending the next generation of mischief makers off to Hogwarts, and couldn't tear his eyes from the screen as the lights slowly brightened and the timeless Harry Potter theme song filled his ears. At last, as the movie goers began to filter out the door, Kurt turned to Blaine, who hadn't moved since the movie had begun, save to inhale sharply with suspense or sigh with relief.

"Blaine?" Kurt nudged the boy next to him, standing up and waiting for Blaine to follow suit.

"I can't believe it's over," Blaine whispered, running his hand over his face in disbelief before tilting his head to look up at Kurt, the expression on his face hollow, as if someone had died.

Kurt's heart swelled as he gazed back at Blaine. "It's not," Kurt said quickly. "It's like that thing Dumbledore said in the second book… Harry Potter won't be over until nobody believes in it anymore, which clearly won't happen with crazy obsessive fans like you."

Blaine smiled, the gesture softening his whole face. "I think _you've _begun to believe it a bit, yourself," he said, a hint of satisfaction mingling with the bittersweet tone of his voice.

Kurt didn't even bother to pretend otherwise. "Don't rub it in, okay?"

"I knew you'd see the light someday," Blaine murmured only slightly smugly, standing to leave.

"Wait," Kurt protested, grasping the back of Blaine's costume to halt him. Blaine turned back, a question written in the set of his eyebrows. "Nobody ever loved Snape," Kurt blurted abruptly, suddenly needing Blaine to hear just how much he was loved.

The happy light in Blaine's eyes faded a little. 'I know…" he sighed sadly. "His character is so tragic."

Kurt pulled Blaine into a tight hug, and touched his lips to Blaine's ear, whispering so softly that no one else could have heard, "Don't ever forget that I'll _always _love you."

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><p><strong>I'm loving writing this fic, and I hope you are enjoying reading it, but if nobody prompts it's going to end pretty soon. So, if you want more, prompt!<strong>


	3. Scared

**Since this is the first time I've gotten more than one prompt since my last update, I think this is a good time to say that I'm going to post prompts in the order I receive them, because it seems like the fairest way to do it. Now, today's prompt is from _Chibirisu_:**

_Blaine thinks Kurt is in danger (maybe he thought some bullies were after Kurt or something) and panics a bit. When he finally sees Kurt, he tells him how much he loves him!_

**I was a little unsure about my characterization of them for this one, but I hope you all like it!**

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><p><strong>Scared<strong>

Blaine's last period class had never felt so long before. He squirmed slightly in his blazer and fiddled with his tie as he sat in the first row of his Latin class, a subject he'd always previously enjoyed. But today, the minute hand's journey around the face of the clock was agonizingly slow. Blaine cast an unhappy glance at the empty seat on his right, the seat from which Kurt should have been slipping him sweet notes and doodles. _It's only been one week_, Blaine thought to himself, _Kurt's been back at McKinley for one week, and you already can't stand that he's not here. _Blaine had shown no restraint in encouraging Kurt to go back to his friends and prove that his spirit couldn't be crushed by ignorant bullies. But now that the deed was done, Blaine unashamedly missed him.

It wasn't even the stolen kisses and gestures that he longed for. It was the friendly smile that he could count on seeing no matter how bad his day had been, it was the fact that he had a friend who didn't insist on addressing him as "Warbler Blaine," it was having someone with whom he was always on the same page. The days had seemed so empty without the slender form of Kurt by his side, and the absence of Kurt's countertenor voice at Warbler practice was glaringly loud to Blaine's ears. Even when Blaine wasn't selfishly wishing to have Kurt back at Dalton, he often thought with a chill of Kurt's painful days of being bullied, and hoped that it wasn't reoccurring now that Kurt had returned.

When the bell finally rang at the end of the day, Blaine shot out of his seat and was out of the classroom before anybody else, sliding into the driver's seat of his car without bothering to change out of his uniform. He fumbled with the keys, clumsy in his eagerness to be away, driving to the Lima Bean where he and Kurt had agreed to meet after school that day. Blaine arrived and scanned the lot quickly for Kurt's car. It was nowhere to be seen, so he pulled off his blazer and settled into his seat rather than going into the coffee shop. It was raining torrentially, and he'd rather wait for the downpour to abate, or at least for Kurt to arrive.

Blaine sat stiffly, yearning to see Kurt all the more just because he knew how soon the sweet moment would be. When he realized that he was drumming his fingers impatiently against his knee, he pulled out his music player and slipped on a set of headphones, leaning his head against the headrest and letting a recording of Kurt singing "Blackbird," fill his ears. The sound was soothing, and Blaine closed his eyes as Kurt's smooth voice washed over him and swept him away. The song played five times before Blaine realized that Kurt, Kurt, who was the most punctual person he'd ever met, was twenty minutes late. Blaine tensed and, with no conscious volition on his part, his fingers resumed their frantic tapping.

It was 3:50. _He'll be here soon. Five more minutes, and Kurt will be laughing at me for being so impatient. _3:55. Blaine's mind was racing. He recalled the torment Kurt had confessed to suffering at McKinley - the slushie facials, the daily plunge into the dumpsters, that awful _kiss _in the locker room. 4:00. _What had happened to Kurt? _He could be anywhere, with anybody, having who knows what done to him. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to banish the dozens of horrible possibilities forming in his mind. A moment later, he was shoving his keys back into the ignition and tearing down the streets to McKinley High as fast as his expensive car could take him.

The parking lot was fairly empty when Blaine pulled in, and he charged out into the rain, slamming the car door shut behind him. Halfway to the entrance, Blaine paused, panicking even more as he realized that there was nothing he could do, that he wouldn't know how to get to Kurt even if he knew where he was. The sudden surge of helplessness was worse than anything else.

The wind picked up and the rain slanted into Blaine's face and plastered his soaked button-down shirt against his skin. Blaine crossed his arms over his chest, shivering and panting as his mind invented a new series of fearful things that could be happening to Kurt. His hands gripped at his hair, which had come out of its carefully gelled style and was sticking to his forehead in sopping curls. Blaine blinked against the rivulets of rain that ran into his eyes and shivered again, this time more out of fear for his boyfriend than the cold.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar, high-pitched voice call calmly but questioningly, "Blaine?"

Blaine spun about and saw a tall, slender figure walking towards him from a side exit, holding a pink umbrella and hopping lightly over puddles. He squinted through the rain that blurred his vision and made out that it was Kurt, looking confused but unharmed.

Relief overcame Blaine's sense of reserve as he sprinted towards Kurt, throwing his arms around the boy and burying his face in Kurt's neck to inhale the smell of his cologne and hairspray. Kurt froze for a moment in surprise, and then slowly relaxed and wrapped the arm that didn't have an umbrella around Blaine, kissing his forehead.

"Hey, whoa," Kurt said, steadying Blaine. "What are you doing here?" The bewilderment was clear in his voice.

"I thought…" Blaine panted, out of breath, "I thought you… bullies… You didn't show up and I thought someone had done something awful to you…" Blaine trailed off, the rest of his sentence lost as he mumbled incoherently into Kurt's neck.

Despite how disjointed and halting Blaine's explanation had been, Kurt understood immediately. He folded his umbrella as the rain slowed to a mist, freeing both hands. One arm stayed around Blaine's waist while the other hand came up to the back of Blaine's head and carded absently through the damp hair. "Oh, Blaine," he murmured. "Glee practice ran late. I figured you'd know that that was what I was doing."

Blaine turned his head a bit, and his words became audible again. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he was chanting.

Kurt chuckled awkwardly and rubbed up and down Blaine's back before pulling away a bit. "Well, I'm glad of that, and I love you, too, but you're all wet," Kurt commented, and Blaine didn't have to look up to know that Kurt was wrinkling his nose in the most adorable way.

"Too bad," Blaine muttered, tightening his hold on Kurt. As his adrenaline-fueled panic subsided, Blaine became fully aware of how he'd jumped to conclusions and was grateful that the blush staining his cheeks was hidden in Kurt's shoulder. He nuzzled his face deeper into Kurt's warmth and groaned, "I've made such a fool of myself."

Kurt smiled and placed a finger under Blaine's chin, coaxing his head up. "You're surprisingly adorable when you're embarrassed," he remarked with a smile.

Blaine reddened even more and tried unsuccessfully to drop his gaze. "I missed you so much," he whispered, kissing Kurt lingeringly on the mouth and then resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder so that Kurt couldn't see his face. "I know how happy you are to be at McKinley again, and I'm glad you had the courage to do what I couldn't, but please try to stay safe, okay?" Blaine requested softly. "I love you, so much. Too much for anything to happen to you."

"I promise," Kurt said quietly, his throat vibrating under Blaine's head. Blaine pulled back from the embrace and their hands found each other's, fingers intertwining. They smiled firmly into each other's eyes and Blaine savored the moment, branding it into his memory.

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><p><strong>The ending was sort of abrupt, I hope nobody minds. I didn't want to keep on rambling. Keep the prompts coming, everyone!<strong>


	4. Puppy

**Thank you to those of you who have prompted, I appreciate it so much! This is probably obvious, but I'll say it anyway - you can prompt more than once, if you want. I can't think of anything else I need to say, so without further ado, a prompt from _Patty The Purple Platypus_:**

_You could do a story where Kurt and Blaine find a puppy and Kurt realizes just how much his boyfriend acts like one._

**I hope it's what you wanted! Prepare yourselves for pure fluff.**

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><p><strong>Puppy<strong>

The sun made the cloudless sky so bright that it was almost white, and the park was full of families basking in the warmth of the late morning sunshine - giggling children throwing a frisbee and parents lounging on blankets. Blaine's hand was soft and warm in Kurt's as they strolled slowly across the grassy park, Blaine humming a song in the back of his throat and Kurt joining in at random intervals with a joyous, lilting whistle.

"I wish every day could be like today," Kurt sighed contentedly as Blaine's voice faintly sketched out the bridge of the song. "Nobody's given us funny looks for holding hands, and I love it when you're not singing to perform."

Blaine smiled at his boyfriend and kept on humming. They didn't need words to know just what the other was thinking. Blaine tipped his head against Kurt's shoulder and kissed the edge of his jaw lightly, his breath brushing against the skin of Kurt's neck as lightly as feathers.

Kurt giggled and, when Blaine looked at him questioningly, explained, "That tickles."

A mischievous sparkle came into Blaine's cinnamon eyes, and Kurt knew he'd said the wrong thing. "Oh, yeah?" Blaine asked, a smile already pulling up the corners of his mouth.

Kurt tried to duck out of the way just as Blaine's hand shot towards him. "Hey!" he protested, laughing, half wanting to be caught.

He got his wish as Blaine snagged him by the shoulder and pinned him close by his side, attacking Kurt's sides and neck with tickles.

"Stop that!" Kurt shouted, recovering from his uncontrollable laugher long enough to snake his arm about Blaine's narrow waist and spin him around. "Not so fast," Kurt whispered low in Blaine's ear just before tackling him and wrestling him playfully to the ground.

They tumbled onto the warm, sweet-smelling grass together, and Blaine squirmed underneath Kurt's lithe body as Kurt peppered his face with kisses. "How did you do that?" Blaine asked, surveying Kurt's slight build speculatively.

"You forget," Kurt grinned smugly. "I was on the football team for a week."

"As a kicker," Blaine qualified.

"Yeah, but you think that somewhere in between dance routines the guys didn't teach me a couple of tricks?"

Blaine flashed a white smile and waggled his eyebrows at Kurt before murmuring smoothly, "I've got some tricks of my own." He surged up swiftly and rolled Kurt over, straddling him with his legs and pressing his palms against Kurt's chest. "I win," he grinned triumphantly from his perch atop Kurt.

"How old are you, five?"

"Nope," Blaine said, entirely carefree, bending over from the waist and laying his head against Kurt's chest. "I can hear your heart beating," he said after a moment.

Kurt smiled and ran his hands lightly over the top of Blaine's perfectly arranged hair. "As much as I appreciate that you're laying on top of me," Kurt said, "I'm going to have to regretfully ask you to get off of me, because you're a little heavy, and people are starting to stare."

Blaine sighed and rolled off into the grass, his arm reaching over to brush his finger's against Kurt's. Kurt shifted onto his side and gently stroked Blaine's face, his crystalline eyes shinning happily as he curved his palm around the shape of Blaine's cheekbone. "I could spend forever with you here," Kurt whispered.

Blaine closed his eyes briefly, his long lashes casting shadows prettily over his cheek, and nestled his face into Kurt's hand as he replied, "We have the whole summer, and that's enough for me. If this is now, then I can wait for forever."

Kurt was examining the line of Blaine's jaw and the curve of his lips when Blaine suddenly propped himself up on his elbow and, looking past Kurt's head, said, "Ooh, look, there's a puppy!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You're so easily distracted, you know that?"

"Oh, c'mon, it's adorable," Blaine protested, not taking his eyes off the dog.

Kurt groaned quietly but followed Blaine's gaze across the park to a little curly-haired black schnauzer that was bounding across the grass towards him. A ways behind it, a small boy chased after it, waving a leash and calling the dog's name.

Blaine sat up the rest of the way and held out his hands to the animal. The puppy came right up to him and began licking eagerly at Blaine's hands, worming his way into Blaine's lap and then nuzzling at him with its wet little nose. Blaine looked up at Kurt, his entire face lit up. "He likes me!"

Kurt's heart melted at the sight. "That he does," he agreed, watching Blaine running his hands over the dog's body as the little animal braced its forepaws against Blaine's chest and leaped up to lick the tip of Blaine's nose. Blaine laughed loudly and scooped the puppy into his arms, cooing at it and gently pulling on the dog's silky ears.

The little boy who'd been following after the dog ran up then, breathless from his chase. "Sorry," the child said shyly, crouching and clapping his hands to get the dog's attention. "Max got away from me, but he's friendly, I promise."

Blaine gave the boy a kind smile and said, "I can see that. Max seems like a very good dog."

Kurt beamed as Blaine's calming demeanor instantly put the nervous child at ease. Blaine was so good with kids. He could just imagine Blaine twenty years later with a child of their own… Kurt stopped that thought in its tracks, trying not to plan that far ahead into his future, but the smile lingered on his face.

"He's a really sweet puppy," Blaine was saying to the boy. "You don't mind if I say bye to him, do you?"

Max's face brightened even more and he eagerly gave consent. "Max thinks you're sweet, too," the child smiled.

Blaine grinned and picked up the dog behind its forepaws, lifting it up to his face and rubbing his nose against that of the dog's. Kurt gazed at them, the two dark curly heads bent towards each other, one canine, one human, so pure and happy and strangely yet perfectly alike. Blaine kissed the top of the dog's head lightly and then reached over and handed him to the little boy.

"Thanks," the child said quietly.

"No, thank _you_," Blaine answered sincerely, a dimple Kurt never knew he had appearing in his cheek.

Blaine stared after the boy and dog walking away for a moment and then flopped back down onto the grass, tucking his hands beneath his head and closing his eyes contentedly.

Kurt watched his chest move slowly up and down with his breathing and wondered for the millionth time what he'd done to deserve someone as wonderful as Blaine. "I love you," Kurt whispered intensely.

Blaine's chocolate eyes opened and he looked up at Kurt. "I love you, too," he answered simply. Kurt lay back down next to Blaine, letting Blaine's humming fill the air again, thinking that if this was the rest of his life, he'd never want anything more.

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><p><strong>I wasn't quite sure if they were in character, but I decided to just go with what I had and move on. I hope you all enjoyed. Review, please?<strong>


	5. Build A Home

**It's been a while since my last update, but four AP classes and writer's block will do that to you. Sorry for the wait. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it. Now, a prompt from _6Amaya6_:**

_I would love to see a prompt where Blaine introduces Kurt to his parents, but they're against it, and Blaine just yells that he is in love with Kurt._

**The title of this chapter is inspired by "_To Build A Home" _by _Cinematic Orchestra_. It's a beautiful song.**

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><p><strong>Build A Home<strong>

Blaine yawned and tried to focus on the thick History textbook in front of him. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall of Dalton's library, and moaned when he realized that he'd only read one sentence since the last time he'd looked at the clock - seven minutes ago. The lines of too-small print in front of him seemed to blur until they were indistinguishable, and Blaine sighed and yawned again, crossing his arms over his History book and resting his head on them, letting his eyes close. A five minute break couldn't hurt.

"Blaine," Kurt said sternly from across the long wooden table.

"Mmm?" Blaine hummed, raising his head again to look at his boyfriend, who'd finished his History homework half an hour ago and moved on to Latin.

"I know you hate History, but putting it off won't help. Don't procrastinate."

"Ugh, you're supposed to be my boyfriend, not my mother," Blaine complained, turning his attention back to his homework despite his protest.

"Speaking of mothers…" Kurt said slowly after a minute.

Blaine could feel Kurt's gaze on him, and looked up. "Yes?" he prompted Kurt to continue.

"You've met all the people who are important to me," Kurt said, his expression eager for some reason. "All my friends from the New Directions, and Dad, and Carole…" Kurt trailed off again and stared at Blaine, his face expectant. Blaine tensed and bit his lip, hoping that the conversation wasn't headed where it seemed to be going. When he remained quiet, Kurt continued, "When am I going to get to meet _your _important people?"

Blaine's heart sank as his fears were fulfilled. He knew this conversation was going to have to happen eventually, but he hadn't wanted it to be so soon… "You already know them. Wes and David, and the other Warblers - those are my friends," Blaine deflected, plastering the charming smile that he always hid behind onto his face.

It didn't work; Kurt only frowned. "You know that's not what I mean," Kurt said rather reproachfully. "Your parents. You never even talk about them. I just thought that now that we're together… I thought you would want me to meet the people you care about most." A touch of insecurity crept into Kurt's voice.

Blaine regretted his answer immediately. Of course Kurt would assume that the hesitation was because there was something wrong with _him_. "No, Kurt, don't think like that," Blaine quickly assured him, wondering how he could explain. "I just don't think you meeting my parents would be the best idea." Kurt was looking at him too hard, waiting for him to elaborate. Blaine dropped his gaze and mumbled, "My parents aren't Burt and Carole… they're not…" Blaine stopped suddenly. He couldn't say it, not to Kurt, whose family were the most accepting people he'd ever met. Kurt wouldn't be able to understand, no matter how much he wanted to. "You know what? Never mind," Blaine said shortly, his face closing off.

Suddenly Kurt reached over and laid his cool, smooth hand over Blaine's, loosening the fingers that he'd unconsciously clenched into a fist on top of the table. "Sweetie?" Kurt asked gently.

Blaine bit his lip harder. This was bad. He and Kurt weren't big on pet names, and only saved them for the difficult moments -the anniversary of Kurt's mom's death, Pavarotti's burial. Blaine took a deep breath. "My parents aren't as open as yours about the fact that I'm gay," he mumbled, hating himself for being ashamed of his own family. "They know, of course, but I never told them I had a boyfriend." Blaine finally got the courage to look at Kurt.

Kurt's eyes darkened just a bit. "Blaine, if I'd known I wouldn't have flaunted my relationship with my dad so much."

"No, it's fine. Burt is great."

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "But your dad isn't."

"I didn't say that!" Blaine snapped.

"Okay, sorry," Kurt murmured soothingly, stroking Blaine's hand. "If you don't want me to meet them, that's fine. I didn't realize…"

Blaine shook his head forcefully. He didn't want Kurt to think of him differently now. "No, there's nothing to 'realize,' I just…. I-" Blaine couldn't find any words to say what he wanted to without outright lying. He could hardly tell Kurt that it was "_fine_" when it was anything but.

Kurt smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

Blaine forced a small smile onto his lips and looked back at his History book, the silence between the two of them no longer comfortable. He couldn't see the words in his textbook at all anymore, but kept his gaze fixed upon it anyway, clinging to the feeling of Kurt's fingers absently stroking across his tense fist.

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><p>On the next Saturday, Blaine found himself standing before the door to Kurt's room, willing himself to knock. He took a deep breath and rapped lightly on the door. <em>There's no need to be so nervous<em>, he tried to convince himself. _It's just Kurt_. Regardless of what he wanted to believe, Blaine couldn't keep himself from jumping slightly when Kurt opened the door.

"Hey! I was hoping I'd see you this morning."

Kurt's melodious voice was instantly soothing. _Kurt was so beautiful when he smiled…_ Blaine refocused on the task at hand and asked hesitantly, "Can I come in?" His fingers anxiously worried the cuff of the dark green shirt he was wearing.

"You know you don't have to ask," Kurt answered easily, already turning away and sitting back down at his desk. Blaine stood awkwardly in middle of the room, trying to get himself to speak and not just dawdle there like a fool. Kurt glanced up at him. "You okay?" he asked casually. "You've been acting kind of off since… you know…" Kurt trailed off, staring hard at Blaine.

_Yes. Blaine knew._ They hadn't brought up the conversation in the library since that day, but Blaine almost wished that they had. It would make what he was about to say a lot easier if it hadn't become an unspoken taboo. Blaine swallowed. "You're not doing anything this weekend, right?" Blaine asked, ignoring Kurt's question. Kurt would get his answer soon enough…

"Not unless you count studying for Monday's Chem test," Kurt grimaced, holding up his massive textbook.

Blaine couldn't help but calm down slightly; he actually liked Chemistry. But Kurt didn't, and Blaine suspected that Kurt's comment was intended partly to relax him. "Well, then can you come for a drive with me?" Blaine asked, refusing to look at Kurt.

"A drive?" Kurt's voice was wary. "Where to?"

Blaine swallowed and opened and shut his mouth, but didn't speak.

"To your parents' place, right?" Kurt guessed carefully.

"Yeah," Blaine managed to get out, cursing himself for having to be so concerned about this. He was just going home for a weekend; it wasn't a big deal. Or at least it shouldn't be.

"You don't ha-"

"Kurt Hummel, don't you dare tell me that I don't have to do this," Blaine said sharply, finding his voice again. "Because if you finish that sentence then I won't do it, and I need to. For myself, not just you," he added, anticipating and responding to Kurt's next statement before Kurt could talk.

"I'd still love yo-"

"_Kurt! _I _know_, okay? I've thought about it."

"Okay. As long as you're sure."

"I am."

"Then it's a good thing I found your favorite Pink CD yesterday, because we'll need it for the trip," Kurt said lightly. He extended his hand for Blaine to take hold of, and Blaine genuinely smiled for the first time that morning.

* * *

><p>"You still want to do this?"<p>

Blaine shot Kurt a withering look. "Kurt, we're parked in the driveway of my parents' house after a two hour drive, and you think I'm just going to change my mind?"

Kurt shrugged. "I'm being supportive," he defended himself.

Blaine rolled his eyes, not showing how much he appreciated Kurt's understanding. "Courage, right?" he asked, pressing his palms together to keep his hands from shaking.

Kurt knew that there was no reassuring answer he could give, so instead he just rubbed up and down Blaine's arm once. Blaine got out of his car and came around to the passenger side to hold Kurt's door for him. "Always the gentleman," Kurt remarked, his eyes smoldering at Blaine's. He reached out and made to grab Blaine's hand, but froze when Blaine stuffed his hand quickly into his pocket.

"Not now. Not yet," Blaine whispered.

"Sorry."

Blaine only grimaced in response, and led the way up the flagstone path to the front door, rubbing his sweaty hands on the thighs of his jeans. He pulled his key from his pocket, and let himself in. Instantly he was hit by the smell of home. Oddly, no matter how uncomfortable he was there, that smell would never cease to be comforting. "Mom? Dad?" he called hesitantly. "Kurt and I are here."

There was the sound of hurried footsteps, and then Blaine's mother blustered into him like a whirlwind, hugging him close to her. "Honey, it's been so long since you've visited," she whispered into his ear.

Blaine hugged back and looked over her shoulder to Kurt, who was averting his gaze, clearly trying not intrude on the moment. Blaine smiled gently despite his nervousness. _That was so like Kurt._

Another set of footsteps approached, and Blaine looked up to see his father, who reached out and mussed Blaine's hair. "It's been too long," he nodded, his smile the same shape as Blaine's but not as warm.

"Dad! My hair!" Blaine protested, ducking.

His father's smiled faded. "Blaine, normal boys don't care about hair," his father reminded.

Blaine tensed. _Already it was starting. _That meaningless word. _Normal._ As if there was something wrong with him.

"Blaine, it's only polite to introduce us to your company," his mother broke in.

Blaine nodded. "Of course. Kurt, this is my mom and dad." He gestured between them and turned back to his parents. "This is Kurt Hummel."

"It's so nice Blaine's made some close friends at Dalton besides that singing group," his father said to Kurt.

Blaine tried not to sigh. _How many times had he told his dad about how great a singer Kurt was? _"Dad, Kurt's a Warbler, too," he reminded patiently.

"Oh." There was an awkward moment, and then Blaine's father said, "Well, I'm glad you've made another friend, anyway." Now was it. The perfect moment. The instant to speak up and say, "_Well, Kurt's not just a friend._" But Blaine couldn't. His vocal chords wouldn't work. He was staring wildly around the room, frantic, when he felt Kurt take hold of his hand gently but firmly.

"I'm glad, too, Sir, because your son is a kind person and a wonderful boyfriend to me," Kurt said quietly. His voice seemed to echo a thousand times louder in Blaine's ears. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's faces suddenly hardened, their hospitality chilled.

"Blaine." His father's voice was low, but lethal, dangerous.

Blaine swallowed and hung on to the physical sensation of Kurt squeezing his hand so hard that it hurt. "Yeah, Dad?"

What happened next was not something that Blaine had ever expected. "Don't call me 'Dad,'" Mr. Anderson said flatly, his voice frighteningly detached.

Blaine could only stammer stupidly, "What?"

"You're no son of mine." The words were like a blow to Blaine's gut. "At first, you know, we thought we could fix you. It was supposed to be temporary, a phase. It was supposed to go away. But instead you're bringing home a wisp of a boy whose voice sounds like a girl's, and expecting us to just accept that he's your _boyfriend_!" Mr. Anderson snarled, his voice rising angrily.

Blaine shook with fury at his father's words. He'd come to accept the stinging remarks when they were directed at him, but where did his father think he could get off talking like that about _Kurt_? Only the increased pressure of Kurt's palm against Blaine's made him hold his tongue.

But Mr. Anderson was continuing, terrible hatred seeping through his voice. "You're not even trying to fix what's wrong with yourself, Blaine. I can't even recognize you." He was yelling now.

Something inside Blaine snapped as he saw the disgust in his own father's face, and suddenly he was screaming, "That's because I've had to pretend to be someone else around you! Don't you get it? I'm in _love _with Kurt! He understands me like you never will, and he loves me, too, and nothing about that is _wrong!_" Blaine's voice cracked on the last word, and he tore his hand from Kurt's and pressed it against his mouth, fighting the pained scream that seemed to be tearing at the inside of his throat.

"You're not who I raised you to be," Mr. Anderson spat coldly. "You're not the son I thought I had."

"Fine," Blaine choked out, wishing more than anything to sound like he didn't care, to make his father think that he could brush off his parents' concerns as easily as they ignored his. "That's fine." He'd never said anything less true in his life. Blaine whirled around, wanting desperately to leave and hide and never have to face his parents or Kurt again. "I'm going."

And then Blaine was out the door, running, ignoring his car parked in the driveway, stumbling blindly as he tried to escape his own mind. _This is what you do, _a cruel voice in his head spoke up. _You run away. You ran away from public school, and you're running now. Coward._ Blaine tried to ignore the suffocating feeling that wrapped around his chest like a band of iron and the burning in his eyes. He didn't know which was worse, his father's words, or his mother's passive, uncaring silence. They hadn't even bothered to try to stop him. Blaine made it down three blocks before he became conscious of how harsh the biting February wind was, and he doubled over, clutching at his abdomen, trying to breathe. He gradually became aware of running feet crunching on the snow behind him, and knew it was Kurt without having to look.

He didn't turn when he heard Kurt come to a stop behind him. Instead, he tried to even out his breathing, keeping his eyes shut tight against the world. When Kurt laid a hand on his shoulder, Blaine only stiffened and clenched his jaw, reminded of how Burt always touched Kurt's shoulder when he was upset, and how his own father had never done that for him.

"It's freezing and you're shivering. Do you want my jacket?" Kurt offered softly.

"I'm shivering because I'm _mad_," Blaine growled honestly, burying his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything to your parents. I should have let you do it on your own terms."

Blaine gritted his teeth. How could Kurt possibly come to the conclusion that this was somehow his fault? "Kurt, I swear, if you apologize I'm going to lose my mind."

"Okay." Kurt seemed to be hesitating, and then he asked almost timidly, "Won't you at least look at me?"

"No." Blaine knew he was being childish, but he couldn't bring himself to face Kurt.

"Fine. Don't think that'll get rid of me, though." Kurt's slender arms wrapped around Blaine's waist from behind, and his chin rested on Blaine's shoulder, tipping his head against Blaine's neck. Blaine leaned back into Kurt's touch, glad to have someone standing so solidly behind him.

The embrace pulled Blaine from his blazing fury and turned it into pain. Suddenly craving physical contact, he whirled around so fast that both he and Kurt nearly lost their balance. He flung his arms around Kurt and tightened them around his boyfriend's waist, drawing their bodies flush against each other and hiding his face in Kurt's neck, which turned out to be a lot more comfortable than hiding by himself.

"I was so stupid to think anything other than this could happen," Blaine whispered eventually.

Kurt made sympathetic noises in the back of his throat, but said nothing until a few moments later, when he asked, "Are you ready to go back yet?"

Blaine drew away in surprise. "I think they were pretty clear about not wanting to see me anytime soon," Blaine said softly.

Kurt's face showed genuine confusion. "I know that's what they said, but they didn't mean it. They'll forgive you. Dads always do."

Blaine shook his head. "Like he said, he's not my dad anymore."

"Everyone has a dad, Blaine."

"That's not true," Blaine muttered, trying not to sound bitter. "Everybody has a father. It's not the same thing. I know he'll eventually act like it never happened - but it did and I can't get rid of that. They're not my _family_ anymore."

"Blaine Warbler Anderson, stop that. I'll be your family," Kurt said, his voice taking on an oddly scolding tone. "You should know that."

Blaine's eyes warmed a little, and he almost smiled. "I do know."

"Don't you forget it," Kurt said, placing his hands on his slim hips with such a familiar, dignified air that Blaine had to chuckle slightly.

"Let's go home," Blaine said suddenly, sounding rather resigned but no longer furious or tortured.

"I thought you said -"

"_Home_, Kurt," Blaine repeated, stressing the word. "Dalton is my home. Let's go." Blaine leaned forward and pressed a very short, chaste kiss to Kurt's lips. "You're going to need my help studying for that Chemistry test," he murmured, brushing his lips against Kurt's again.

Kurt's delicate skin took on a rosy glow, and Blaine finally smiled. "Seeing that" - he rubbed the back of his fingers against Kurt's warm cheek - "manages to make everything right," he whispered. The words may not have been entirely true in that moment - with his father's voice still echoing in Blaine's head - but Blaine knew that they would be eventually, and that was all that mattered.

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><p><strong>Again, I wasn't sure about the characterization for this chapter, especially for Blaine. The show hasn't developed his character as much as I'd like, so I decided to present a new side of him here because I thought it would fit the situation. I hope you all liked it. I struggled a lot with this chapter, and re-read it so many times that it all sounds the same now, so I apologize for any mistakes. By the way, the tedium of History homework and love of Chemistry is from my own experience because I had no idea what would interest Blaine. Anyway, this is the last prompt I have as of right now, so if you want more of this story, prompt!<strong>


	6. Prom Queen

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed and prompted, especially you amazing readers who are coming back again with more ideas. Before I get to the prompt, an apology - To those of you who look at the prompts before I post them, I'm not doing _Team Bartie_'s Facebook prompt because I know nothing whatsoever about Facebook, and so it wouldn't have turned out to be any good. So my apologies to _Team Bartie_ and anyone else who was looking forward to that. Anyway, here's today's prompt (also from _Team Bartie_). I hope you all enjoy it.**

_What about during the last dance at "Prom Queen?"_

**Disclaimer: This chapter has some dialogue taken directly from the show (two or three lines, I believe), so I realized that it would be a good time to write a disclaimer, which I've forgotten to do until now - I don't own Glee or anything associated with it. If I did, Blaine would be in every single scene. Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Prom Queen<strong>

Blaine stood just outside the doors to the McKinley gymnasium, watching Kurt enter ahead of him, holding his thin shoulders squared and his spine straight and his head high. Blaine sighed, and wished that he could be as brave as that - to walk back into a room full of catcalls and hostile stares, to be looked at like he was something other, an animal, inhuman - and become crowned _prom queen_, of all titles. He'd heard about the bullying and the prejudice and, of course, Karofsky, but Blaine had never thought McKinley would be like this. He thought back to the number he'd insisted on singing that night, and felt a pang of guilt as it occurred to him that perhaps a gay boy from another school performing a lesbian song was not the most sensible choice for McKinley's prom. And he'd judged Kurt for wanting to wear the kilt.

Kurt had made it up to the stage by then, so Blaine pulled open the door and slipped in, edging his way to the Glee club and staring up at Kurt along with everybody else. With the white-blue spotlight trained on Kurt's pale face and a roaring silence permeating the air, Blaine wished he could rush up and take Kurt in his arms and shield him from the world. But this was something he couldn't keep Kurt from, so he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his tux and watched as Kurt stepped up to the microphone, even the sound of his breathing conspicuous in the huge space of the gym.

Kurt looked so small and alone and frighteningly _breakable_ there, in front of everybody, and Blaine struggled against the urge to run to him as moments from the last ten minutes flashed back to him. _Kurt's echoing footsteps and ragged, broken breathing as Blaine followed his frantic flight away from the prom and through the deserted corridors. His tremulous voice as the mirage of acceptance that he'd wanted to believe in disappeared. The way he'd looked so shattered that Blaine had been afraid to touch him. _Blaine swallowed and found his own heart racing as Kurt bent his head towards the microphone.

Suddenly, however, Kurt's stance shifted - he stood more erect, he met the eyes of the audience, and a fire returned to his injured gaze as his sashayed his shoulders in a way that was so distinctively _Kurt_, and announced breathlessly, "Eat your heart out, Kate Middleton!" Blaine's face shone up at Kurt's, and he remembered again exactly why he was in love with Kurt.

Blaine was snapped out of his admiration, however, as Mr. Figgins announced the traditional first dance between prom king and queen. His gaze snapped to Karofsky, and he glared. As understanding as he wanted to be of Dave's predicament, and as much as Kurt insisted that he'd changed, Blaine was repulsed by the idea of that dance, of that bully's hands on Kurt. However, as he watched Dave walk nervously up to meet Kurt and, even then, keep a wary distance, Blaine's anger gradually dissolved and he was left with only pity for both of them.

They made it to the center of the ring of spectators and stood facing each other. Over the back of Kurt's shoulder, Blaine could see Karofsky's face. He appeared to be confused, and then the bewilderment cleared and a spasm of pain flitted across Karofsky's face before he uttered what was clearly some kind of apology and strode away, nearly running in his rush to disappear into the obscurity of the watching gymnasium. Blaine's eyes followed Karofsky's retreat for only a moment before they were back on Kurt, who was standing - alone, again - in the center of the circle of students like it was a cage. His face was frozen into a mask of fear, that deer-in-the-headlights expression back as the spotlights focused in on him for the second time that evening and music filled the room.

Again, Blaine was overwhelmed by an urge to reach out and hold Kurt, and this time, he intended to do exactly that. Finally, here was something that he could fix. Blaine left his spot next to Rachel and shouldered his way boldly through the hostile room until he broke free from the perimeter and stepped onto the dance floor. Kurt remained motionless, his back still to him, staring after Karofsky even though the gap in the crowd had long since sealed behind him. Blaine took two more steps forward and said smoothly over the sound of the New Directions' singing, "Excuse me."

Kurt spun around, jumpy and startled, but his face relaxed when he saw who it was. Blaine, having performed for much of the night and kept to the periphery for the rest of it, blushed slightly as he felt the eyes of the entire school on him. Of all the moments to finally find his redemption, it was now, as he extended an upturned hand to Kurt, that Blaine realized he was finishing what he'd been too afraid to complete at public school. Blaine beamed at Kurt and asked softly, "Um, may I have this dance?"

An adorable smile grew at the corners of Kurt's mouth and he answered quickly, "Yes." A pause, and a deep breath, and then he was full-out grinning as he laid his hand in Blaine's and added, "Yes, you may."

Blaine tugged on Kurt's hand and pulled him closer, sliding his free hand onto Kurt's shoulder. For a moment, they were dancing alone, and then in Blaine's periphery he saw Rachel spin out from the group of spectators and whirl in a circle, laughing. Suddenly the spotlight was off of them, and the circle surrounding them broke ranks, dissolving into happy couples twirling around them. Blaine took the distraction as an opportunity to gently let go of Kurt's hand and slip both hands down to Kurt's waist, drawing him against his chest and pressing his cheek against Kurt's.

Kurt moved his lips to Blaine's ear and whispered, "You realize that this song isn't for a slow dance, right?"

Despite his remark, Kurt reached up his arms and crossed them behind Blaine's neck. Blaine smirked slightly and pulled back for a moment to let his gaze rove over Kurt's expression. Finally satisfied, he drew Kurt closer again and murmured back, "You don't seem to mind it that much."

"No, I can't say that do."

Blaine rubbed his nose against Kurt's hair, taking a deep breath of the smell that was partly hairspray and cologne, but mostly just Kurt. _I love you so much,_ he thought contentedly to himself, marveling at how Kurt's slim waist felt under his hands. Suddenly, Kurt's hands left Blaine's neck, and his fingers were wrapping around Blaine's wrists, moving them off of him and then interlacing their fingers, ceasing their slow swaying motion.

"You love me," Kurt repeated, clarifying.

Blaine blushed but steadily met Kurt's gaze, his eyes unwavering. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" he asked, a hint of rare shyness coloring his voice.

Kurt chuckled. "Yes, you certainly did." He stared at Blaine for a moment, triumph shining out of his bright eyes, and then took Blaine back into his arms and whispered in his ear, "I love you, too."

Just then, hundreds of balloons were let down from the ceiling, the bright lights making them seem to glow faintly as the rainbow of color cascaded down to the dancers. "You know," Kurt was saying, "Maybe this prom wasn't so bad after all."

It struck Blaine abruptly that somehow, it was just right for Kurt to be standing there, with the cheap-looking crown adorning his brow in satirical contrast to the fitted kilt and polished suit he wore. Blaine threw back his head and laughed exuberantly, swatting a pink balloon out of his face and raising the hand holding Kurt's into the air, spinning Kurt around before swapping places and twirling himself. "So much better than Sadie Hawkins," he chuckled, the hurt that had always been in his voice when he spoke about it suddenly vanishing. They were both laughing, and then, with no warning, their lips were on each other's, kissing passionately under the balloons and the lights as they spun together.

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><p><strong>Not my best, I know. Sorry about that. Review and prompt, please!<strong>


	7. Truth or Dare

**Again, sorry for the late update. This time my excuse is that my laptop broke and I didn't have regular access to a computer until Saturday night. This prompt is from a very enthusiastic _Stormaggedon_ (thanks so much for prompting more than once!).**

_WARBLER PARTY! Everyone gets a bit tipsy, and they play truth or dare. Someone dares Blaine to kiss Kurt, and he refuses. When questioned, he blurts out that he loves Kurt, and he didn't want to kiss him as part of a dare! Fluffiness will ensue..._

**Warning: Obviously, this chapter involves underage drinking. Which I do not condone.**

**And while we're on the topic of warnings, I have absolutely no experience with drunkenness or drunk people, and I haven't seen _Blame it on the Alcohol_, so I had nothing to go on to make an in-character drunk Blaine. I ended up going off of a video I found of a somewhat drunk Darren Criss performing _Teenage Dream_. But my point is, if this is not realistic, sorry. Enough of my rambling, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Truth or Dare<strong>

Kurt hunched his shoulders over his textbook and ran his fingers through his hair impatiently. He'd been aware that his classes at Dalton would be harder than what he was accustomed to, but the Calculus problems in front of him were like a foreign language, letters and numbers and graphs mixed together in a way that he was sure was not what math was supposed to be. When the door burst open loudly, Kurt growled under his breath and threw down his pencil, looking up with some asperity at whoever dared intrude. "I'm trying to get something done, here- Oh, it's you," he said, breaking off abruptly when he saw that it was Blaine.

"Hey!" Blaine said brightly, seemingly impervious to the biting tone in Kurt's voice. "Tough night for homework?" he asked, taking in Kurt's expression.

"You could say that," Kurt mumbled, glancing briefly down at the two problems he'd managed to complete in half an hour.

Blaine came up behind Kurt and peered over Kurt's shoulder, looking down at the open textbook. Blaine leant down and reached over Kurt's shoulder to point at something on the page, and Kurt became very keenly aware of how close Blaine's head was to his, how his arm was almost brushing against his cheek. Kurt blinked and shook his head slightly, refocusing on Blaine's finger tracing the curve of a graph as he methodically explained the problem.

"But that's not why I came here," Blaine said cheerfully, moving around the other side of the desk so that he could face Kurt, beaming at him. "You," Blaine said seriously, pausing for emphasis, "need to come to our Warbler party."

Kurt gestured at the papers strewn across his desk and muttered, "Busy, remember? It's hard getting used to Dalton classes. I can't go tonight." Kurt gazed rather longingly at Blaine, wishing that he could be spending the night with him and David and Wes rather than with homework and textbooks."

Blaine chuckled. "So naïve," he grinned, his eyes friendly and warm… maybe too warm to _just_ be friendly. Kurt banished that thought instantly. The incident at GAP with Jeremiah should have taught him by now not to jump to conclusions. "You only say that because you've never been to a Warbler party," Blaine was saying. "They are not something to be missed."

Kurt smiled back and decided that just because Blaine was oblivious and disinterested didn't mean he shouldn't try. And after all, who would want to hang about with someone who spent their nights holed up in their room pouring over Calculus problems? "Of course I'm coming," he said, shutting his book and jumping up.

Blaine began to lead the way out of Kurt's room as if he'd known all along that Kurt would come, and for a split second, Kurt was jealous of how Blaine was always so _sure_, so certain in what he was doing and where he was going. But then, Blaine looked back over his shoulder and reached out his hand to Kurt, just like when they'd run through the hallways hand-in-hand on that very first day. Kurt tried to hide how much the gesture meant to him and slipped his hand into Blaine's larger, warmer one, and, for the moment, forgot to be anything but content.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Kurt crossed his arms and pursed his lips as he watched all the Warblers but himself gradually disintegrate from preppy private school students into a messy, loud collection of drunk boys.<p>

"Kurt!" Blaine called across the room in an uncharacteristically too-loud voice, beckoning to Kurt rather clumsily from where he was standing on the back of a leather couch. He'd turned into a person foreign to Kurt - his blazer sloppily askew and his tie hanging limp and undone around his loosened collar. Perhaps even more shocking was his sudden abandon of any sense of reserve, often throwing his arm around Kurt's shoulder and pulling uncomfortably close, laughing too loudly at Kurt's jokes. But then again, Blaine had always seemed to find Kurt funny, even when he knew he wasn't... "KURT!" Blaine shouted again, reclaiming Kurt's attention.

He smirked slightly and called back, "What?"

"C'mere!"

Kurt couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself as Blaine, his coordination long-gone, swayed and flailed his arms to keep upright on his perch. After an unsteady moment in the air, he seemed to give up and half jumped, half toppled onto the seat of the couch. Kurt slowly pushed off from the wall he was leaning against, and meandered over to Baine, sitting down about a foot away.

"Maybe that will teach you not to climb on every piece of furniture Dalton owns," he suggested. Not expecting a response to that, he remarked,"You seem to be enjoying yourself, despite being more than a little inebriated."

"I _am_," Blaine said far too emphatically, leaning towards Kurt as if he was saying something confidential, and then not pulling back, keeping his face so close to Kurt's that Kurt could almost feel the body heat coming off of him.

"Enjoying yourself, or drunk?" Kurt clarified, partly amused and partly exasperated by this new, uninhibited version of Blaine that he'd never met before.

Blaine was still considering this question when Wes, David, Jeff, and Trent stumbled over, seating themselves on a mahogany coffee table across from the couch. "We're going to play truth or dare," David announced.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I think I've got an unfair advantage there," he said. When five pairs of confused eyes stared at him, he elaborated, "I'm the only one whose inhibitions are still intact."

Blaine shrugged and drawled unconcernedly, "Then you have to go first!"

"Okay." Kurt thought for a moment, and then said, "Truth," figuring that he didn't want to be subject to the ridiculous dares his friends would manufacture in their drunken state.

Blaine's eyebrows scrunched together and he finally asked, "Did you hate Jeremiah?"

"The GAP dude?" Jeff asked. "I thought you were over him, Blaine."

Blaine covered Jeff's mouth clumsily with his hand, saying, "I am, but let Kurt answer the question."

"Get off of me!" Jeff said, hitting Blaine's hand away playfully and then shoving his side.

Kurt raised his eyebrows and waited for the boys to finish wrestling, secretly gratefully for the extra time he was gaining in which he could construct an answer. He hadn't expected a drunken Blaine to be so perceptive. "No..." Kurt finally answered slowly. "I didn't _hate _him, exactly, I just thought he wasn't right for you. Clearly, I was right," he couldn't help adding.

"Liar. You were jealous." Wes mumbled quietly.

Kurt chose not to try to distinguish between jealousy and hate and quickly urged, "Blaine, it's your turn."

"Dare!" Blaine said eagerly, grinning.

"I know!" Wes said suddenly, his face lighting up mischievously. "You have to kiss Kurt."

Kurt could feel his face flush instantly, and hoped desperately that the others were too tipsy to notice. "_What?_" he said, spluttering.

Before anybody could answer to Kurt's outburst, however, a touch of reason returned to Blaine's eyes and his smile faded as he said firmly in a voice devoid of any hint of inebriation, "No."

Kurt's eyes, diverted in embarrassment before, were suddenly riveted on Blaine's face. Was he really that bad? Was he so unlovable that even a drunk Blaine, who'd kissed a girl - kissed _Rachel_, for Christ's sake - wouldn't even kiss him on a dare? What was wrong with him? Could _nobody_ want him?

"What do you mean 'No'?" Wes and David protested immediately. "It's a dare. You have to."

Blaine's face shut off, and he crossed his arms. "I said no. Give me something else, I'll do a different dare. Anything. But not that."

Kurt took a swig from the can of beer next to him to cover the hurt expression that he was sure was all over his face, thinking that maybe getting drunk wouldn't be so bad at the moment.

"Okay, fine," Wes said. "But you can't get a different dare. Instead you have to answer a truth."

Blaine shrugged, his face desperate. "Sure. Anything." He was slurring again.

"Why won't you kiss Kurt?"

At this, Kurt covered his blushing face with his hands and moaned. Did nobody consider that they were torturing him, too? He forced himself to look fearfully back at Blaine again.

Blaine leaned forward, his alcohol-tinged breath blowing across Kurt's face. "Because I looooove him," Blaine drawled. "And I'mma kiss him for real someday." he said loudly.

Kurt's stomach clenched nauseatingly. He should have known that things could always, always, get worse. This was wrong, all of it, the words he'd dreamed of hearing for so long twisted around horribly and spoken in a voice he hardly recognized. A nightmare, mocking the most secret, sincere hope he'd ever nurtured. Suddenly his hand was flashing out, slapping Blaine across the cheek, sounding louder than the blow really was. Kurt sprang to his feet, furious at himself for the blush staining his cheeks, for the way he couldn't laugh it off, for how he'd betrayed the fact that he actually cared.

"Shut up!" Kurt snarled. "Can you do that? Can you manage to keep your solo-hogging mouth shut? You're drunk, and stupid, and I wish I never came to this moronic party," he snapped.

Kurt became aware of just how loudly his voice was echoing in the now-silent room, and he spun around, barely hearing Blaine call after him as he stormed furiously to his dorm room. He'd been inside for all of two minutes when there was soft knock on his door. "Go away, Blaine," he huffed angrily.

"Kurt, please? Just open the door," Blaine's plaintive voice came through the door, gentle and pleading. _And drunk_, Kurt reminded himself, forcing himself to hold his resolve.

"Two minutes, Kurt, and then I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, I promi-"

"_What?_" Kurt yanked open the door, deriving childish pleasure from the way it banged loudly against the wall.

"I don't really know what I did to make you mad," Blaine mumbled, playing with the ends of his tie, "because, like you said, I'm sort of - no, very - drunk. But whatever it is, I didn't mean it, and I'm sorry."

Kurt covered how hurt he still was by snorting sarcastically and saying snarkily, "Some apology. You don't even know what you're sorry for."

Blaine clasped his hands before him entreatingly and looked up at Kurt with big, soft, brown eyes that Kurt decided he hated. "I can't leave until you forgive me."

"What happened to the whole, 'I'll leave you alone if you want' thing?"

Blaine only shook his head and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm and dragged him inside. "Fine. Just come in if it'll make you be quiet. You're probably too drunk to remember this, but I have Calculus homework to do, and I can't stand here arguing with you all night."

He steered Blaine to the bed and shoved him down on it. "If you talk I'm going to throw you out," he warned.

Blaine nodded and Kurt went back to his desk and bent over his Calc book again. If it had been difficult before, when he was at least focused, the problems were impossible now. He was so, so tired and Blaine was asleep on his bed, curled up adorably, and somehow Kurt didn't have the heart to wake him up... Kurt stretched his arms out on the table and closed his eyes, drifting off into an agitated sleep filled with Blaine and humiliation and mockery.

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><p>Kurt's eyelids fluttered as he slowly woke up, and he groaned as he realized that his mouth felt fuzzy and his throat was dry and scratchy and his back was stiff - not to mention that he'd missed doing his moisturizing routine. Kurt raised his head and looked around, blinking confusedly. He was in a chair before his desk, still dressed in his blazer... the events of the previous night came rushing back to him and he was furious all over again.<p>

As he became more alert, Kurt realized that someone had turned off the main light, and that the only illumination came from his desk lamp, which had oddly been moved to his bed. Kurt returned fully to consciousness with a jolt as he saw Blaine lying on his stomach on his bed, having divested himself of his blazer and wearing only the navy trousers and white button down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal Blaine's tanned, lean forearms. Kurt forced himself to not think of that particular aspect of Blaine and instead focused on the fact that Blaine was propping his chin up on his left hand and apparently finishing Kurt's Calculus homework with his right hand.

"Exactly what are you doing?" Kurt asked coldly.

Blaine jumped slightly and looked up at Kurt. "Oh, you're up. I'm sorry, was the light too bright? I was just trying to finish..." Blaine trailed off and sat up, waving his hand lamely at Kurt's homework.

Kurt passed over all the blatantly wrong things about the circumstances and settled on pointing out, "Your handwriting is nothing like mine, no teacher is going believe I wrote that."

Blaine's tense face relaxed a little, and he held out the page for Kurt to see. "I can be a good forger when I want to be one. Look, it's almost indistinguishable."

The fact that Blaine was right only annoyed Kurt more and he growled, "Is that the only thing you have to say for yourself?"

Blaine bit his lip and looked down, ashamed. "I woke up and you'd fallen asleep, and I knew I couldn't sleep because I had such a headache... hangover, you know... and I just thought... I know I've ruined everything, but I'm good at Calculus, and it seemed like the only thing I could fix, so I just..." Blaine trailed off again and stared up at Kurt, his face the very picture of repentance. "I should go," he murmured, clearly uncomfortable.

Kurt quickly looked away. Was that it, then? Blaine wouldn't at least talk about what he'd said last night? Kurt wasn't worth even that? "So you really didn't mean it," Kurt whispered as his heart broke, his voice so soft that not even Blaine could hear the words. Despite everything, he'd hoped that there had been a slight spark of truth in Blaine's words the night before. But, no, he'd been a fool to think that... Blaine didn't even seem to remember what he'd said. _Of course he wouldn't, why would he recall a drunken outburst that wasn't even true..._

"I'm sorry, honestly, and I'll understand if you never want to talk to me again, or..." Blaine shuddered, his body seeming to convulse involuntarily.

"Yeah, actually-" Kurt stopped and cleared his throat to steady his voice, "never talking to you sounds pretty good right now."

Blaine nodded and got up to go, but halfway to the door he turned back and said softly, "I know I said I'd go and I will, but first... I know I was drunk... but I don't regret anything I said." Blaine glanced at Kurt's face and said quickly, "Well, I mean, of course I wish I hadn't... but... what I mean is, I meant it." Blaine shook his head frustratedly and muttered, "_Gosh_, why can't I talk coherently?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed as he wondered the same thing. "Meant what?" he asked cautiously.

Blaine flushed. "_You_ know, Kurt."

Again, Kurt hid behind a wall of sarcasm. "Looks like all your inhibitions are back."

Resolve kindled in Blaine's eyes, and he stepped toward Kurt hesitantly, gently taking hold of his shoulders and forcing Kurt to face him. "I meant it when I said that I wanted our first kiss to be real. I didn't want it to be tainted with alcohol or with the assumption that it was for a dare and not for you and me. I meant it when I said that I wanted it someday." Blaine took a deep breath and then, his eyes glowing and soft and _alive_, finished, "And I meant it when I said I loved you."

Kurt tried not to hope, not to let his breathing quicken and his heart race. It wasn't enough. This wasn't something _he_ could do. He needed Blaine to take this first leap for them - and then Blaine did, and their arms were around each other, and their lips were pressed against each other's fiercely, and Blaine was _everywhere _- the smell of him, the taste of him, the _feel _of him - and Kurt blissfully immersed himself in the moment, forgiving everything in an instant as his anger was consumed in a flame of passion and love and joy.

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><p><strong>I hope there was enough fluffiness in there for you, <em>Stormaggedon<em>. I felt like Kurt wouldn't want to hear it from Blaine that way, so I made him mad instead of fluffy, and put the fluff in later. What did you all think? In-character? Keep those prompts coming, everyone!**


	8. Single Ladies

**This prompt is from _Strangeangelsxx_, who was totally awesome and gave me not one, but _ten_ prompts! So thank you for that, you're amazing! Here it is:**_  
><em>

_Blaine finds Kurt's New Directions performance (because everyone has to do at least one of those stories haha, it's like a right of passage in Klaine fandom or something)._

**Right of passage though it may be, I'm sorry to confess that I wasn't sure exactly what you meant by this, so I just wrote something that I hope is what you intended for me to do. It doesn't have much of a plot, it's mainly fluff.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: This chapter mentions Beyonce's _Single Ladies, _which I obviously do not own. Oh, and it also references _Teenage Dream _by Katy Perry. And the rating should probably be a little bit higher for this chapter, but it's nothing major. **

**While we're on the subject of disclaimers, I wasn't all that pleased with how this chapter turned out, so sorry if you don't like it. The next one will be better. I promise.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Single Ladies<strong>

Blaine yawned widely and leaned back in the soft armchair he was seated in, propping his feet up on the coffee table before him and stretching as he looked around lazily at the warm furnishings of one of the many lavishly decorated break rooms at Dalton. His homework finally finished, he leaned forward and picked up his thin silver laptop from the table, opening up an internet browser and scrolling quickly through the unopened emails crowding the top of his inbox. He paused and cocked his head to the side when he saw something from Wes titled plainly "just watch."

Arching an eyebrow, Blaine opened it and stared dubiously at the single line of the email - a link to a video. He settled deeper into the rich-smelling brown leather of his seat and clicked on the link, his curiosity aroused. He was surprised when the easily recognizable sound of Beyonce's _Single Ladies _- not Wes's usual taste in music - filled his ears, and his eyes widened even more as the video opened with a slim, milky-white hand tapping against a very firm, black clad thigh. A familiar hand and thigh. The camera zoomed out, and Blaine's breath caught in his throat as the screen revealed Kurt, dressed in a sequined black outfit and dancing to the music with Brittany and Tina on either side of him.

Blaine knew instantly that this black-and-white video was from before he'd known Kurt; it was clear in the shorter hair and the round-faced innocence that was present in the performance despite the nature of the song. Blaine leaned forward, his exhaustion of a few moments ago forgotten as his eyes roved over Kurt, following Kurt's too-tight black jeans up his long legs and marveling at the way he was able to thrust his hips so perfectly in time to the song. His gaze progressed upwards, along the black, sequined material that clung to Kurt's lean body in all the right places, displaying his figure sleekly. As Blaine watched, he became faintly aware that someone had just entered the room, but his eyes didn't flicker from the screen as he watched Kurt twitch his shoulders and flip a hand clad in an unmatched black glove back and forth before skimming his fingertips along the forelock of his hair. Blaine's attention was drawn back downwards as Kurt patted his bottom quickly and then moved his hand back up to curl around his hipbone. Blaine's eyes shone lustily as he wondered how one person could be so erotic and yet so innocently adorable at the same time.

"Oh, God, please tell me that you're not really watching that," a soft, laughing voice broke into Blaine's thoughts.

Blaine startled and paused the video, looking up with surprise to see Kurt - impossibly even more beautiful in actuality - standing a few feet behind him and staring over his shoulder with a mixture of horror and amusement, his hand against his mouth as if it could hide the blush creeping up his neck and pooling in his cheeks. Blaine stood up and tugged Kurt's hand away from his mouth, slipping his arms around his slim waist and trapping Kurt's mouth with his lips.

"Skin tight jeans, indeed, Kurt," Blaine growled under his breath, remembering his very first serenade to Kurt and nuzzling his face into the tender skin below Kurt's ear. "And you told me you had the sex appeal of a baby penguin."

"Blaine, what were you doing watching that?" Kurt moaned.

Blaine ignored this and whispered huskily into Kurt's ear, "I actually believed you after those faces you made in the _Animal _performance. Apparently," - Blaine drew away slightly so that he could lean his forehead against Kurt's - "I've grossly underestimated you, Warbler Hummel. I love you."

"Me, or my infamous dance moves?"

Blaine pretended to pause to think before murmuring, "Both."

The heat from Kurt's face was nearly tangible, and Blaine kissed the tip of Kurt's small, upturned nose and then moved his mouth down to Kurt's soft, full lips. He chuckled into Kurt's mouth and moved his hands up from where they were resting on Kurt's hips to wrap his arms around Kurt's waist, giving him a gentle squeeze and then letting go, aware - even though Kurt was kissing back with enough enthusiasm - that he was distracted and had plenty to say about the fact that Blaine had been snooping on his performance.

"Mmm," Kurt hummed. "Why'd you stop?" he asked, eyes closed happily.

Blaine braced himself as he said, "Because half of you is still hung up on that video."

Kurt's eyes flew open, already glaring. "Right. How'd you get that?"

Blaine coughed nervously as Kurt planted a hand on his hip, eyes narrowing. "Someone sent it to me," he answered, wanting to preserve Wes's anonymity.

It was too late - Kurt had snatched Blaine's laptop and looked at the email, which was still open. "Wes has it coming to him at rehearsal tomorrow," Kurt growled, the perfect chill in his voice betrayed by the warmth in his clear blue eyes, letting Blaine know that Kurt wasn't truly mad.

"You're the one who put it on the internet," Blaine pointed out.

"Actually, no, that would be Brittany. She thought it was good."

Blaine laughed loudly as Kurt looked on with exasperation. "It was _very _good."

"I look ridiculous." Kurt peeked at the frozen image on the video where it had been paused, and shuddered. "That was from ages ago. I need to get Brittany to take that down."

"No, don't," Blaine protested vehemently.

"So that you can keep on watching it? Just a better reason for me to take it down."

Blaine sighed and grumbled, "Can I at least watch the rest of it? I never finished."

"My dad walked in right after that part, there wasn't much else to see."

Kurt's tone had revealed more than his words, and Blaine furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head suspiciously. "Why would your dad mind?"

"I meant it when I said it was from ages ago - I hadn't even come out yet. He still wanted me to do 'guy' things. In fact, the day after that I joined the football team, and proceeded to demand that they dance on the field to loosen up."

Blaine smirked. "And how well did that go?" he joked sarcastically.

"Actually, quite well. We did dance." Kurt said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And won," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Blaine shook his head in amazement. "Do you ever _not _get your way?"

Kurt grinned mischievously and murmured, "Rarely. Now, as fun as that dance was with Brittany and Tina, I do believe I'd enjoy it even more with you."

Blaine's eyes widened, but before he could protest, Kurt had grabbed Blaine's hands and moved them into the pose at which the dance began.

"Come on." Kurt reached past Blaine to shift the video back to the beginning and then started it again. Music filled the room, and Blaine felt Kurt's hands return to guide his wrists as Kurt said, a smile in his voice, "Let's finish watching it together."

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><p><strong>By the way, I might switch up the order that I do the prompts in, because I don't want my prompters to have to wait too long for theirs. So I might decide to alternate between the other prompts from <em>Strangeangelsxx <em>and ones from others. Review?**


	9. Unsuspecting

**This prompt is from _Queen Elizabeth the Literate_:**

_Kurt never transfers to Dalton, and so the boys aren't dating. Then one day Blaine just walks into the choir room in the middle of rehearsal, kisses Kurt and tells him he loves him. Then leaves for whatever reason. ? Extra points if no one in New Directions knows who Blaine is._

**I found this prompt rather difficult to do, mostly because it took me a while to picture Blaine doing something so impulsive. So thank you for giving me a challenge, and I hope I did the prompt justice!**

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><p><strong>Unsuspecting<strong>

Blaine sat in the back of his father's expensive car, staring up at the high, ugly concrete walls of McKinley High and trying to convince himself that he wasn't entirely insane for thinking that it was a good idea to come here, to find Kurt again. Of course, it wasn't exactly _again_, because the first time it had been _Kurt _who'd found _him. _And then Kurt had promptly gotten back on his feet, somehow sorted out his problems with the guy who'd been harassing him, and turned his back on Blaine. Blaine knew that the odd sense of rejection he was experiencing was irrational and selfish - he didn't even know the boy. _And_, Blaine pointed out to himself, _who are you to develop expectations of a poor kid who'd come desperately, in search of help and lost in more ways than one? _Frustrated with himself, Blaine leaned forward impatiently and spun the volume dial on his radio until the sound of _Teenage Dream_ was pounding loudly enough in his ears to drown out the bickering voices in his head.

Blaine knew exactly when the McKinley school day ended because of the outpouring of students issuing from the doors, and he slipped out of his car and made his way nervously into the school before he'd have time to change his mind. It wasn't until he was inside the old building and faced with the glass-enclosed main office did Blaine realize that he didn't even know where the Glee choir room would be. He became abruptly conscious of just how out of place he looked, still wearing a Dalton blazer, the tie and red piping just screaming "private school" to anybody who bothered to glance between him and the McKinley students sporting letterman jackets and sweatshirts.

A light tap on his right shoulder snapped Blaine out of his reverie, and he turned to see an auburn-haired woman wearing a pencil skirt and cardigan looking at him with large, green, slightly concerned eyes. "Do you need something, dear?" she asked kindly.

Blaine nodded gratefully and a moment later he was following the teacher's directions to the Glee rehearsal. He was walking down the corridors when from one of the classrooms he heard a high, smooth countertenor voice saying sharply, "Rachel, you're not the only person in this Glee club. There are others people besides you who deserve a solo."

Blaine's face broke into a smile at the sound of Kurt's voice. It had been so long, and yet he remembered it perfectly, and he even recalled Kurt's description of Rachel so well that he didn't have a doubt as to the owner of the bossy female voice that answered, "But I've already planned what number I'm going to do. Mr. Shue, tell him -"

"Oh, stop acting like this club is all about you," Blaine heard Kurt snap. "I know this is shock for you, Rachel, but you're not the only ambitious person in the world."

The sharp impatience and annoyance in Kurt's voice was so honest and unguarded and strangely, inexplicably familiar that Blaine forgot about all the plans he'd made about what he was going to say and found himself left with a sudden, reckless impulse to kiss this boy he barely knew.

For once, he obeyed the urge without a second thought to consequences and strode into the Glee room, moving fast, before the logical half of his brain could catch up with the one that was in control at the moment. In the periphery of Blaine's consciousness was an awareness of the stares of the entire Glee club and the surprised shout from the teacher, but at the center of it all was the instant recognition on Kurt's face. A month since they'd last spoken, it took Blaine only a glance to see that Kurt hadn't forgotten.

Perhaps it was that that gave Blaine the courage to cup Kurt's cheek lightly with one hand and tip Kurt back boldly over the seat of the chair as he kissed him, Blaine's free hand supporting Kurt's torso at the small of his back. "I think I'm in love with you, Kurt," Blaine whispered. His mouth muffled Kurt's surprised exclamation, but the noise nevertheless snapped Blaine out of the reckless rush of adrenaline that had made him do something so bold and insane… and so incredibly stupid.

He pulled away from Kurt instantly, his hands and lips tingling as if they'd been burned, feeling a flush rise beneath his tanned skin. One of the New Directions - a tall, muscular guy with a mohawk - let out a loud catcall and the whoop broke through the horror that froze Blaine in place. Blaine muttered an indistinguishable apology and moved out of the room as quickly as he'd entered, swinging the door shut behind himself and then leaning his back against it, breathing as heavily as if he'd just run a marathon. Blaine could feel the curious, overbearing stares of every Glee Club member boring through the closed door into his back and he cringed slightly.

Kurt's voice floated through the wall to Blaine's ears, soft and thin as he said "Mr. Shue, may I be excused? I should…" - Blaine bit his lip as Kurt paused - "talk to him, or something."

"Who's your secret boyfriend, Kurt?" a loud female voice asked.

In spite of Blaine's own distress, he could picture perfectly the delicate blush he knew was on Kurt's face, and he was almost smiling until he heard Kurt's response, "Santana, he's not my… he's not a secret."

"Oh really?" asked someone Blaine recognized as Finn. "Then why have we never heard about this guy who shows up and kisses you?"

Blaine's cheeks burned. _Kurt hadn't even told the New Directions who he was? _He heard a chair inside the room creak as someone stood up, and Blaine started off down the hallway, knowing that in a few seconds Kurt would emerge from the choir room, and not wanting to be there to face the endless inquiries that surely awaited him.

He'd hardly made it halfway down the corridor when Kurt's footsteps approached behind him and Kurt called, "Blaine Anderson, you think you can just kiss me and walk away?"

Blaine almost turned around, and the instant's hesitation was enough for Kurt to catch up and move around to stand in front of Blaine, blocking his escape with his hands on his hips and a furious scowl on his face. "What _was _that?"

Blaine could think of a thousand answers - _That was the most embarrassing moment of my life. _Or, _that was me being an idiot. _And worst yet, _That was me confessing my love to someone I barely know. _But what came out of Blaine's mouth was the most ridiculous, silly, out-of-place question he could have come up with. "Why doesn't your Glee Club know who I am?"

The question clearly surprised Kurt as much as it did Blaine, because Kurt's glare faltered and he stammered for a moment before regaining his former tone and saying, "A little narcissistic, aren't you? You may be a rockstar at Dalton Academy, but not everyone talks about you all the time everywhere."

"No, that's not what I -" Blaine stopped abruptly, because he wasn't quite sure what he _had _meant. After a moment's hesitation he said obscurely, "The Warblers offered to come and help me do a whole serenade thing for you, but I wanted something more… personal."

"Yes, because kissing me in front of the whole Glee club was definitely _personal_." Kurt said, his voice sarcastic, but the glare in his eyes softening.

"That part wasn't planned."

Kurt pursed his lips. "So you had a plan."

Blaine looked down, ducking his head to hide an embarrassed grin. "Possibly."

Kurt's hand flashed out swiftly, and took hold of Blaine's, his eyes gauging Blaine's reaction guardedly. "Well, it just so happens that I love you, too."

Blaine's head snapped up immediately. "You do? Or are you just saying that to appease me long enough for you to disappear from my life again?" Blaine arched an eyebrow.

Kurt chuckled. "As much as I find your usual dapperness attractive, you're rather entertaining when you've lost your footing." Kurt's eyes grew serious, and he smiled shyly as he continued, "And I'm not planning on disappearing again any time soon. Though it helps that I've got a thing for big romantic gestures." Kurt's thumb traced circles onto the back of Blaine's palm and he sighed softly, "I thought that if I didn't tell the Glee Club about you I could avoid all the drama they make, but seeing as that gig is up…" Kurt trailed off, pausing for effect before he brushed the back of his fingers against Blaine's cheek and finished, "how about I introduce you to them as someone more than the stranger who came bursting into our rehearsal?"

Blaine finally gave a real, genuine smile, and twisted his fingers between Kurt's as he answered, "That sounds perfect."

* * *

><p><strong>What did you all think? Did I get Blaine's character right? There are a whole bunch of prompts coming up that I'm <em>really <em>looking forward to writing, but lately I've been having writer's block, and I don't want that to ruin an amazing prompt, so sorry if my updates are slow. Review, please?**


	10. Family

**It's been a while, but here I am again with another prompt from _Strangeangelsxx_. I hope people are still reading this after all this time. Here's the prompt:**

_Blaine comes over to Kurt's for a family dinner and Kurt sees how Blaine has become a part of his family._

**Finn makes a debut in my writing in this chapter, and I'm not sure how I did on him... so let me know, and enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Family<strong>

When the doorbell rang, Kurt didn't rush to the mirror to check his hair, or try to whip off his apron and hide it as he'd done three months ago when Blaine rang the very same doorbell at precisely six o'clock on Friday night for the first time. Instead, Kurt paused long enough to hear Finn call, "Come in, dude," and then bent down to peek at the lasagna that was bubbling in the oven, knowing that Blaine would know to find the spare key under the plant pot on the left.

Kurt heard the front door shut and tugged off the bright red oven mitts from his hands, peeking around the corner of kitchen just in time to see Blaine hanging his jacket on the spare hanger that they now always kept unoccupied for him in the closet. "Hey, honey," Kurt said, smiling casually and wrapping one hand around Blaine's neck to draw him in for a quick kiss on the lips. He relished the familiarity, the way he touched and kissed and spoke to Blaine as if they'd done this for years and would continue to for forever. "Carole made your favorite lasagna again, it's almost done."

"Sounds good," Blaine answered, trailing after Kurt into the kitchen and making his way over to the oven. "Can I take a peek?" he asked, reaching out before Kurt answered to tug open the oven door.

"Nope!" Kurt said suddenly, reach out from behind Blaine and clapping a hand own Blaine's eyes swiftly.

Blaine stifled a surprised shout and turned to face Kurt, Kurt's hand still over his eyes. Kurt could feel the light whisper of Blaine's long eyelashes fluttering against his hand and the arch of his thick eyebrows, and he giggled slightly at the tickling sensation it produced. Blaine laughed, too, and Kurt took advantage of the situation to lean forward and kiss Blaine lightly on the tip of his nose. "You can't look in there," Kurt whispered, finally removing his hand. "I've got a surprise."

Blaine's large, dark eyes flashed open suddenly, and he grinned challengingly up at Kurt. "Better a surprise than that was? I can't think of something much better than you appearing behind me without warning."

Kurt chuckled. "Oh yeah? Well, you'll just have to wait and see."

Blaine spun around and cracked open the oven door widely before Kurt could stop him, staring appreciatively at the row of golden soufflés rising up out of their white porcelain ramekins.

"Don't open it so wide, they'll collapse!" Kurt protested, narrowing the gap into the oven.

"Hey, kids," a deep voice came from behind them abruptly.

Kurt closed the oven and turned. "Hey, dad," he grinned.

Blaine inclined his head slightly. "Hi, sir," he answered politely, his tone warm and his grin making his face glow.

"Call me 'Burt,' kid," Mr. Hummel reminded, reaching out to muss Blaine's hair, Blaine ducking out of way just in time.

Kurt turned back to the kitchen counter, pulling out five dishes and beginning to serve the lasagna while he smiled to himself in satisfaction. Blaine's tone was so different from when he'd timidly stammered out a stiffly polite "hello" at his first Friday dinner. The "sir" thing had become a joke between the two, and Kurt always hid his pleased smile whenever Burt teased Blaine about it. Their ignorance towards how paternal their relationship had become made it all the more heartwarming.

"Dinner's ready," Kurt said, turning around to see Burt lightly mock-punching Blaine's shoulder as they laughed together at a jibe Blaine had made about some sports team. Kurt pressed his lips together against a smile and carried the dishes to the square dining room table.

Blaine came in and looked at the two still empty seats. "Finn'll be in the basement, right?"

Carole cocked her head slightly, listening, and they all fell silent as the sound of bangs and explosions from a video game drifted up the stairs. Blaine smiled knowingly. "I'll get him."

Kurt smoothed his napkin over his lap and was trying to get Burt to do the same with his when Blaine bounded back in, having taken the stairs two at a time, with Finn trailing behind.

"Dude, that smells good," Finn said, sitting down in his chair and taking a large mouthful while the others all bent their heads for a brief grace.

"Finn, sweetheart, you'll be done before us all if you start early," Carole reminded gently.

Finn grinned and licked tomato sauce from his lower lip. "I need time for seconds," he protested playfully.

Kurt realized suddenly how mortified he'd have been if this had been his and Blaine's first Friday night dinner together, but now he and Blaine merely exchanged amused glances and Blaine's left hand, already underneath the table, shifted to squeeze Kurt's knee. Kurt bit his lip to hide the way his face was lighting up, but Burt cleared his throat gruffly and asked, "Enjoying the meal, Blaine?"

A month ago, Blaine would have blanched and his hand would have disappeared instantly and begun to fiddle with the tablecloth. Now, Blaine smiled steadily back at Burt and answered calmly, "It's good," before gently relinquishing his touch.

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><p>Half an hour later, Kurt sat waiting impatiently for Finn to take the last bite of his third helping and finally rubbed his hands together eagerly when his stepbrother laid down his fork and stretched his hands up over his head, tipping his chair back onto the two rear legs.<p>

"Manners, Finn," Kurt heard Carole softly chastise as he padded anxiously into the kitchen and opened the oven to take out his soufflés. His face fell the slightest bit as he saw them, the tops sunken and cracked, not like the fluffy column they should have formed.

Kurt's delicate eyebrows furrowed and he sniffed cautiously at one of the pastries. It didn't smell burnt, and didn't look overdone… Kurt slid the individual ramekins onto a tray and carried it into the dining room. "They don't look right," Kurt apologized, "but I think they'll taste fine."

Each family member accepted a souffle, and Kurt gazed nervously around at their faces as each spooned some up and took a bite.

"How come we only get, like, two bites of this? It's really good." Finn asked only seconds later.

"It's a delicacy, Finn, you're not supposed to get a huge serving of it. Besides, it's really rich," Kurt explained patiently.

"Well next time don't skimp on the good stuff, bro."

Kurt's anxiety melted and they were all laughing heartily as Kurt started in on his own serving now that he'd gained their approval.

"You know," Blaine began, his eyes twinkling mischievously at Kurt, "there was a time when you would have freaked out at these not coming out perfectly." He nodded his head at the soufflés and squeezed Kurt's hand gently.

Kurt narrowed his eyes and tried to glare convincingly at Blaine. "I'll leave the freaking out over tiny things to Rachel. But don't you forget that there was a day when you wouldn't have dared to say that in front of everyone."

Blaine scoffed. "I wouldn't have dared to say it even if it was just you. You have no idea how intimidating you can be."

Kurt chuckled at this as Burt and Finn stood up and carried their dishes into the kitchen. "The Buckeye game's on, Blaine, you coming?" Burt called over on his way to the living room couch.

Blaine jumped up, too, but hesitated and cast a longing glance to the television before asking Carole dutifully, "Do you do want help with the dishes, Mrs. Hudson?"

She smiled warmly. "There's no need to 'Mrs. Hudson' me, Blaine. Go watch the game. Besides, you're the only one of us who can get Kurt to watch football."

Kurt groaned and allowed Blaine to tug him eagerly into the cozy living room by the hand. Blaine sat down at the end of the couch, and Kurt curled up on the floor by his feet, leaning his head contentedly against Blaine's legs and snuggling underneath a light woven blanket.

Kurt sighed contentedly during kickoff as he felt the couch shift under Blaine, who was leaning forward in anticipation. He tipped his head further back into the light touch of Blaine's long fingers absently carding through the hair at the back of his head, and nestled deeper in between Blaine's knees.

* * *

><p>An hour later, another uproar suddenly went up from one half of the stadium on the television, a flurry of scarlet and grey Ohio State apparel waving on the screen. "Blaine?"<p>

"What?" Blaine answered, his voice tight from the suspense of the game.

"Was that a touchdown?"

"No, it was a good tackle. I thought you played football."

Kurt smiled and reached up to catch Blaine's hand in his and pull it to his lips. "Only for a week, and I just scraped by with dancing," he said, kissing the back of Blaine's hand lightly and then tracing patterns over his knuckles with the tip of his finger. Carole came in and lit a few candles, the soft yellow glow instantly making the room seem smaller and brighter and warmer. Kurt had never imagined that he and Blaine could be so at home together, surrounded by family and comfort and that inexplicable sense of being exactly where they belonged. Had it really been only a year ago that Burt wanted his son to be a jock, that the prospect of rooming with Kurt had made Finn painfully uncomfortable? A year since Kurt had walked the halls of McKinley High in fear, since he'd last been without that photo of Blaine inside his locker to remind him to have courage? Kurt tipped his head up to look at Blaine, sprawled comfortably in his seat, one arm thrown out casually along the back of the couch. The voice of the announcer on the television grew excited again, but Kurt's eyes didn't waver as he watched Blaine reach up to slap a high-five on Burt's outstretched palm.

"Blaine?" he said again.

"_That_ was the touchdown," Blaine answered quickly.

"No, it's not that. I just love you."

Blaine looked down at Kurt, nonplussed. "What?"

Kurt felt his face turning slightly pink, but it wasn't the embarrassing red-hot flush that would have adorned his cheeks even a month ago. "I love you. I just wanted to remind you."

"Okay," Blaine said, looking slightly bewildered in a way that was more commonly seen on Finn's face. "Well, I love you, too." Kurt couldn't help but beam, and Blaine's face answered with a warm grin of his own, the candlelight gleaming waveringly along the shining lines of Blaine's hair gel. "Don't ever stop reminding me, Kurt."

Kurt turned back to the football game, feeling the presence of the rest of his family in the room. He held Blaine's hand to his lips again and whispered against it, the note of a promise in his voice, "I won't."

* * *

><p><strong>A couple miscellaneous notes now that we're done with the chapter:<strong>

**To the anonymous reviewer who called themselves "Ty," and reviewed for Chapter 6, I do know that _I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You_ is not a lesbian song in the sense that you mean. I was just talking about the lyrics - I thought they were a bit controversial for the McKinley High prom.**

**To _Taylur_, your review highly amused me, I'm glad you enjoyed the fluff, and I'm glad you love the word "dapperness" as much as I do!**

**To _Stormaggedon_, this is rather irrelevant, but thank you _so_ much for your very kind reviews and your awesome prompts.**

**That's enough from me for now. Please review and prompt, everyone, I really enjoy your feedback!**


	11. Not Alone

**I'm back with another update for you wonderful readers! Sorry for taking so long, school and SAT's got the better of me. Prompted by _Canadian-23_:**

_Kurt and Nick become really close friends because Jeff and Blaine don't see them as romantic interest yet ;) but when they realize that they are losing their best friends they realize their feelings and tell them that they love them._

**This chapter was a huge challenge for me because, having not seen a lot of the episodes from the middle of Season 2, I really had no idea how to characterize Jeff and Nick. Because of that, and because I really wanted to focus on Klaine, they don't make that large of an appearance in this chapter. So sorry if I've disappointed anyone. This chapter contains the beautiful song "Not Alone" by Darren Criss (which I clearly don't own), so that's where the title comes from. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Not Alone<strong>

Blaine took a deep breath as he belted out the last, lingering note of Pink's latest song, and grinned triumphantly as he hopped down from the coffee table he'd been perched on. He gazed around at the circle of applauding Warblers surrounding him, a pleased flush taking the place of the one from the exertion of singing. "How was it?" he asked, anxious even though he could anticipate the enthusiastic praise that was sure to come from most of the Warblers.

Through their congratulations and the claps of hands on his shoulder, Blaine couldn't keep his eyes from darting to Kurt, from watching carefully and waiting with baited breath for his approval. In Kurt's first months at Dalton, he'd never failed to express admiration for all of Blaine's performances, and Blaine had come to look forward to it, initially just because it was nice to have someone who was always so appreciative, and later on because he learned that Kurt was a tough judge of singing and that his compliments actually meant something.  
>Recently, though, Kurt's corner of the Warbler's lounge had been unusually silent after Blaine's performances, and Blaine suddenly became aware of how much he missed the small words of praise that he'd grown so accustomed to. Today, Kurt barely cast a glance in Blaine's direction, instead turning his head to murmur something in Nick's ear.<p>

Blaine sighed and shook off the other Warblers, trying to make eye contact with Kurt. It was odd how they spent an hour singing together in the same room every day after school, yet it was like Kurt never really saw him anymore. Sure, they greeted each other in the hallways, and they exchanged perfunctory small talk once in a while, but it wasn't the same. Blaine almost wished that they'd had some sort of explosive quarrel that had set them at odds instead of this silent, insidious distance that had crept in between them. Then at least he'd know exactly where they'd gone wrong. He used to be able to know what Kurt was thinking just by glancing into his eyes… Blaine hadn't directly seen those expressive blue eyes in weeks. He longed for Kurt's half exasperated, half amused glare whenever he made a fool of himself. He became conspicuously aware of the lack of Kurt's sharp, quick-witted repartee in long debates over song selection. He'd almost forgotten how adorable Kurt looked when he crinkled his small nose at something distasteful.

And as easily as Kurt had shed his friendship with Blaine like clothes gone out of style, he'd grown just as attached to Nick. The two were inseparable - always nudging each other or exchanging glances filled with a million unspoken words, or leaning in close to each other's ears to whisper inside jokes. Blaine watched the two leave the room together now, perfectly carefree, Kurt laughing at something Nick had said and tipping his head against Nick's shoulder for a moment. _That should be me_, Blaine thought sadly to himself, his chest aching dully. _That could have been me._

There had always been something in the way with Blaine and Kurt. First it had been that Kurt was just coming to a new school, with nobody but Blaine, fleeing a living hell at McKinley, and it would be unfair, as a mentor, to take advantage of the new boy. Then Blaine got used to Kurt's friendship and fixated on Jeremiah - Jeremiah, with his fake bleached curls and his constant thin-lipped smile that never reached his eyes, - Jeremiah, who was so ease to blame for widening crevasse between Blaine and Kurt. After Jeremiah's rejection, Blaine had backed off of Kurt so that Kurt would know that he was never just a rebound, but by then it was too late. If Blaine had been paying attention he would have wondered what Kurt had done on the nights that he'd spent brooding over a silly GAP cashier, and he'd have discovered that Kurt was pouring over homework with Nick in the library, and eventually pouring cups of coffee for them to sip while they chatted about God-knows-what. And now it was too late. Kurt had grown tired of waiting, which had been exactly what it took for Blaine to wake up and see what had been in front of him all along.

Blaine tore his eyes from Kurt and Nick's retreating backs and caught sight of Jeff passing by in his periphery. Perfect. "Hey, Jeff," Blaine called out, tapping the blonde Warbler's shoulder to halt him. "Where do Kurt and Nick go after school every day?"

Jeff stared blankly for a moment and then sighed. "I never know where Nick is anymore," he said, his voice defeated. He looked up and cocked his head quizzically. "Couldn't you ask Kurt?"

Blaine shrugged slightly. "Kurt and I don't…" Blaine trailed off, unsure of exactly what it was that he and Kurt had lost. "… we don't talk much," he finished lamely, watching Jeff warily and anticipating a playful shove to the shoulder or a snort of amusement.

Instead, Jeff nodded gravely and tugged rather meditatively on the forelock of his hair. "Well, then there's only one thing to do," Jeff said after a brief pause, looking up with a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. "You've got to _make_ him talk to you."

Blaine's thick eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know what kind of medieval torture techniques you're planning on using here, but he'll barely make eye contact with me, I'm not going to get him to just talk to me."

"Well," Jeff explained slowly, as if what he was saying was the most obvious thing in the world, "Don't give him an option. Maybe you can't make him talk, but you can make him listen."

Blaine chuckled. "You're talking to me the way Kurt's friends talk to Britney. You don't have to explain things to me like I'm stupid. I'm not mentally challenged."

Jeff raised his blonde eyebrows and stared at Blaine dubiously. "I'm not so sure about that," he said. "Kurt's been crushing on you since you met him on the stairs, and you can't even see it."

Blaine heard his own sharp intake of breath and felt himself freeze. "No," he whispered. "I would have noticed that."

Jeff's eyebrows crept higher, waiting for his words to sink in. "Think about it. His irrational rage when you kissed Rachel and thought you weren't gay after all... his lackluster enthusiasm about serenading Jeremiah. The amount of effort he put into being sexy in 'Animal,' though I'll be the first to admit it wasn't all that seductive."

Blaine groaned. "You're right. Now what am I supposed to do about it? Say to him, 'Let's just forget about the fact that I ignored you for the past three months and be friends again?' I can't do that."

Jeff chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Be a Warbler. Do what you do best. Serenade him." A moment later, Jeff's expression shifted and his blue eyes widened. "Hey, Blaine, hang on. When you find them, tell Nick that I'm looking for him."

Blaine smirked knowingly and patted Jeff's shoulder. "Decided to take your own advice?"

Jeff scowled and shoved Blaine lightly. "Don't push it, Anderson."

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Blaine parked his car in the lot of the Lima Bean, where it seemed Kurt would be most likely to be found. Sure enough, there was Kurt's car, and in the space next to it, Nick's. Blaine slid out of his Civic and grabbed a red scarf from the passenger seat, winding it around his neck and tucking his chin into the warm wool that Kurt had knitted him for his Christmas present. He whispered the word "courage" into the soft cloth and forced himself to walk into the cozy, cinnamon-scented coffee shop, the snakelike knot of nervousness in his stomach coiling itself tighter with every step.<p>

"Kurt? Nick?" he asked quietly, coming up behind Kurt's side of the table so that he wouldn't have to face Kurt right away.

They both looked up, startled, and Blaine felt himself blushing as his hands moved unconsciously up to toy anxiously with the ends of his scarf. _What had he been thinking when he drove here?_ Too late to turn back, Blaine smiled tensely and murmured, "Sorry to intrude, but I was wondering if I could talk to you?" Blaine stared hard at Kurt, wondering whether he was going to receive a snide, biting remark or a polite but phony excuse, and silently debating which would be worse.

Instead, Kurt cast an apologetic glance at Nick and shrugged, answering quietly, "Sure."

"And Nick," Blaine continued, blowing out a relieved breath since the worst part seemed to be over, "Jeff wants to see you, he told me to let you know."

Nick, too, agreed with surprising willingness, pausing as he pulled on his coat to say to Kurt, "We'll catch up later?"

Kurt nodded. "Later." The bells over the door jingled as Nick left, and Kurt looked up at Blaine. "Are you going to have a seat?"

Blaine's flush deepened and he shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets. "It's not really something I can do in here," he said awkwardly. "Can we go to the park across the street? It's supposed to have a piano, too, but..." Blaine trailed off and watched Kurt, waiting.

Kurt rose agreeably enough, draining the last of his coffee and stuffing a dollar into the tip jar on the counter as he left, but once they stepped out into the chilly March air, Kurt looked back over his shoulder and said quietly, "I hope you know, singing me another Pink song isn't going to make things like they were."

_So Kurt's noticed it, too_, Blaine thought with surprise, and then he realized that _of course_ Kurt would notice, Kurt was the one who had noticed everything all along, and Blaine wondered how long Kurt had suffered the helplessness of watching them drift apart and not knowing how to stop it from happening.

A sideways glance from Kurt recalled Blaine to the present, and he mumbled, embarrassed, "The song isn't by Pink."

They made it into the park, walking across grass that had become uneven and matted from the winter's repeated freezing and thawing, and Blaine halted, turning to face Kurt and taking Kurt's cold hands gently in his own. "Is this okay?" Blaine asked warily, feeling Kurt look up in surprise at the physical contact.

"Yeah," Kurt answered, sounding strangely pleased.

"The song is supposed to be a duet, but the lyrics were right, so I hope you don't mind." Blaine said.

He waiting for Kurt to nod his consent, and then took a deep breath, beginning to sing the words that he'd finally found to tell Kurt what he'd been wanting to say for so long.

_I've been alone_  
><em>Surrounded by darkness<em>  
><em>I've seen how heartless<em>  
><em>The world can be<em>

Kurt always thought that Blaine had been the one to save him. How could Kurt not see that it was the other way around entirely, that Kurt had been the only one who could show Blaine that everything he'd suffered at Sadie Hawkins was not the end of the world, and that there was something beyond it that was worth getting to?

_I've seen you crying_  
><em>You felt like it's hopeless<em>  
><em>I'll always do my best<em>  
><em>To make you see<em>

_Baby, you're not alone_  
><em>Cause you're here with me<em>  
><em>And nothing's ever gonna bring us down<em>  
><em>Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you<em>  
><em>And you know it's true<em>  
><em>It don't matter what'll come to be<em>  
><em>Our love is all we need to make it through<em>

Blaine's voice became rough as he realized that he'd abandoned Kurt, left him alone in a new school as Blaine moved on to other, less important preoccupations than the countertenor standing before him now. He tightened his fingers around Kurt's as if it could prove that he really wasn't going anywhere, and smiled when he felt Kurt give a squeeze in response.

_Now I know it ain't easy_

Blaine's face lit up as Kurt joined in, his voice quietly echoing the words as backup.

_But it ain't hard trying_

"So hard trying," Kurt sang, and Blaine regretted everything he'd done that would make Kurt say that.

_Every time I see you smiling_  
><em>And I feel you so close to me<em>  
><em>And you tell me<em>

_Baby, you're not alone_  
><em>Cause you're here with me<em>  
><em>And nothing's ever gonna bring us down<em>  
><em>Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you<em>  
><em>And you know it's true<em>  
><em>It don't matter what'll come to be<em>_  
><em>_Our love is all we need to make it through_

Kurt joined in again at the chorus, his voice chiming perfectly with Blaine's and filling in the gaps, his eyes glowing and wonderfully alive.

_I still have trouble_  
><em>I trip and stumble<em>  
><em>Trying to make sense of things sometimes<em>  
><em>I look for reasons<em>  
><em>But I don't need 'em<em>  
><em>All I need is to look in your eyes<em>  
><em>And I realize<em>

Blaine hoped desperately that his voice was enough to show Kurt just how sorry he was. He let his eyes bore into to Kurt's, trying to make him look past the brown color and into his soul so that Kurt could _see _it, could feel that Blaine wished with everything he was that he'd not been so oblivious.

_Baby I'm not alone_  
><em>Cause you're here with me<em>  
><em>And nothing's ever gonna take us down<em>  
><em>Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you<em>  
><em>And you know it's true<em>  
><em>It don't matter what'll come to be<em>  
><em>Our love is all we need to make it through<em>

_Cause you're here with me_  
><em>And nothing's ever gonna bring us down<em>  
><em>Cause nothing, nothing, nothing can keep me from lovin' you<em>  
><em>And you know it's true<em>  
><em>It don't matter what'll come to be<em>  
><em>You know our love is all we need<em>  
><em>Our love is all we need to make it through<em>

Blaine finished the last line of the song and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Kurt," he whispered quietly, the words sounding soft in the silence after the song. "I love you, and I get it if it's too late now, but I needed you to know."

When Kurt only stared and bit his lower lip slightly, Blaine tried to withdraw his hands from Kurt's, backing off, but Kurt's fingers tightened in protest, keeping Blaine's hands firmly trapped. "Don't go again," Kurt said quickly, his voice nearly pleading, and Blaine stopped, rubbing his thumb gently over Kurt's smooth knuckles.

A moment later, Kurt swallowed loudly and asked, his voice hesitant, as though he were afraid of intruding on something private, "You wrote that song, didn't you?"

Blaine nodded, looking down. "I know it's not great, but I couldn't find anything else that would tell you what I needed to say."

And then Kurt's fingers were under Blaine's chin, drawing it up until Blaine had to tear his gaze from the ground and meet Kurt's eyes. "You're right, it wasn't great." Before Blaine's heart had time to sink, Kurt was continuing. "It was perfect."

Blaine's breath caught in his throat. "Thanks," he whispered, the words sounding weak and pale in Blaine's ears in comparison to what Kurt had said.

"I think..." Kurt trailed off and hesitated for a moment before saying with more certainty, "I think I love you, too."

Blaine held still, afraid that any move would shatter the delicate balance between them and break the spell.

The back of Kurt's fingers brushed lightly over Blaine's cheek, and he offered with a shy smile, "Do you want to go get some coffee?"

Blaine finally relaxed, muscles that he didn't know he had tensed melting under Kurt's tender gaze. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"If I were, would you say yes?"

Blaine beamed and placed his hands on either side of Kurt's face, kissing him very sweetly and briefly. "Yes. _Yes_." He leaned his forehead against Kurt's, and whispered in a voice purely full of joy, "Yes, I would."

* * *

><p><strong>This is the closest thing to a songfic I've ever written, so hopefully it turned out alright and nobody minded it. I'm personally not a big fan of songfics, but a serenade seemed exactly like something Blaine would do. A huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed, you guys make my days. Now I have a question for you all: Does the fluffiness of my stories bother you? I love reading fluff, but I know not everyone does, and I don't want to be overly-cheesy. On one final note, if you like the way I write Klaine, you might want to know that I started another Klaine story called "You Make Me Feel So Alive." If any of you want to check it out, I'd be thrilled.<strong>


	12. Water Fight

**Please don't hate me for not updating for so long! I hope there are still people willing to read this after I've been the world's worst updater ever. I'm so sorry to the people who are waiting for their prompts, I haven't forgotten about you, and I promise they're all coming eventually! But as fans of Glee, I guess we're all used to ridiculously long hiatuses, so onto this chapter, prompted by _Strangeangelsxx_:**_  
><em>

_Warblers water fight! And it turns out Kurt is a bamf. Blaine is supremely impressed, and decides he loves his boyfriend._

**Didn't come out as good as I wanted it to, there were so many places I could go with this, but I felt weird writing any of them, so it's a little tame. And I couldn't keep you guys waiting any longer, so I just decided to post it and move on.**_  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Water Fight<strong>

Kurt gazed in wonder at the huge, identical houses and perfectly manicured lawns rising up before him as Blaine drove along the slowly curving road. They were all the same, tall and white vinyl with bricks, big glass windows arching over the doors and prim white picket fences strung between the properties.

Blaine slowed down in front of one of them and chuckled at the incredulous look that had been on Kurt's face since they turned into the neighborhood. "See?" he asked, pulling the keys out of the ignition and nudging Kurt's shoulder. "I told you Wes's parents were loaded."

Kurt shook his head in awe. "This is too much."

"I know, right?" Blaine asked eagerly. "I bet now you're glad I didn't let you turn down his invitation, aren't you?"

Kurt chuckled at the eager light in Blaine's eyes and the way he was almost bouncing in his seat from excitement. "I still think it's weird for me to be coming. I shouldn't be at your end-of-year party when I was only at Dalton for a few months."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Blaine called as he slid out of the car and came around to open Kurt's door. "Once a Warbler-"

"Always a Warbler, I know," Kurt interrupted.

"Exactly." Blaine cast Kurt a perplexed glance and added, "You get that every guy at Dalton wishes they could go to the annual Warbler pool party, right?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's just a party."

"It's _the _party!" Blaine stared at Kurt in mock horror and scolded, "You do not have the proper appreciation for this."

"Right!" Kurt agreed. "Which is why I shouldn't be here. You should have let some poor freshman go instead."

Kurt began to make his way up the wide, flagstone path to the front door, expecting Blaine to keep up the banter, but instead Blaine grabbed his hand and towed him away, across the lawn towards a gate in the fence. "This way," Blaine insisted.

"We can't just walk into someone's backyard!" Kurt protested.

"It's not 'someone's,' it's Wes's, so we certainly can," Blaine answered easily.

Kurt chuckled and shook his head. "He might come after you with his gavel," he teased.

"I could take him," Blaine grinned, lifting the latch in the whitewashed gate and leading Kurt onto an elaborate patio that bordered a huge pool.

"They're here!" David called, catching sight of them, and a moment later Kurt found himself surrounded by a clamoring, enthusiastic crowd of boys and every doubt he'd had about belonging in the midst of them vanished. "You're late!" David accused. "We thought Kurt backed out after all," he added, giving Kurt a playful shove.

"I'd never let him," Blaine said seriously. "But he insisted putting on sunscreen at home."

"It needs time to set or it'll just wash off!" Kurt protested indignantly. "We can't all have the privilege of skin that tans instead of burns. And if we're talking about ridiculous measures, take note that Blaine insisted in gelling his hair even though he's going to be swimming."

"Well, then if your sunscreen's already 'set'…" Nick murmured, trailing off wickedly before grabbing Kurt around the shoulders and dragging him, fully clothed, into the pool.

"Hey!" Kurt spluttered when he surfaced, rubbing the water out of his eyes and pushing his wet hair off his forehead so that he could see Nick, smirking as he treaded water a few feet away. "Those were designer fabrics I had on! You are going to pay!" he yelled across the pool, struggling out of his sodden shirt and tossing it onto the edge of the pool so that he could make his way towards Nick.

He splashed water into Nick's face, blinding him momentarily, and snatched the opportunity to get him into a headlock and whoop triumphantly before Nick began flailing his arms and legs wildly, forcing Kurt to release his hold in order to stay afloat. "Push me in again and we can drown together before I let you get away," Kurt growled playfully in Nick's ear.

Just then, a familiar voice cried, "Cannonball!" and a high wall of water engulfed both boys for a moment as Blaine plunged into the pool, his knees tucked up into his chest. Kurt giggled as Blaine swam to the surface and shook out his matted curls like a puppy, sending glittering droplets high into the air and running down his bare chest.

Kurt swam to his side with slow, leisurely strokes, and when Blaine opened his arms, he wrapped his legs around Blaine's waist and locked his fingers at the back of his neck, ignorant of the splashes around them as other Warblers jumped into the pool.

"You go all out, don't you?" Blaine observed, surprise and slight admiration apparent in his voice as he placed his hands lightly under Kurt's thighs to support his body, nearly weightless in the water.

"What can I say?" Kurt whispered back, his voice purposefully dropping an octave as he nipped lightly at Blaine's ear. "I'm just that hard core. Weren't expecting it, were you?"

"You never cease to amaze me, Hummel," Blaine chuckled. "Have I ever told you that I love you and all your spitfire temper?"

"I think I can remember you saying something like that," Kurt teased. "Once… twice… every day."

Blaine threw back his head and laughed exuberantly, then slid his hands down the length of Kurt's legs to his knees as Kurt pecked him on the cheek and unwound himself from Blaine's body. "Come on," Kurt urged eagerly as he looked past Blaine's shoulder to the new water fight that had broken out between Jeff and Trent. "I think my skills are needed somewhere."

Blaine grinned and followed, calling after Kurt, "It looks like you're enjoying the party, after all."

* * *

><p><strong>Just so everyone's clear, prompts are definitely still open despite my... shall we say... delays.<strong>** Also, if you're into doing polls, I have one on my profile that's new as of December 30th, so feel free to check that out. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!**


	13. Kilt

**I'm finally back with another prompt for you all! Prompted by _slytherin-until-i-die_:**_  
><em>

_I would love to read a Klaine fic where one of the guys has done something to royally piss off the other and a heated argument suddenly turns to lust._

**I had an idea for what they could be angry about, but then I decided it would be better served in a different prompt that will be coming later, so for this I decided to merge it into the Prom Queen episode. I always felt like Kurt rather ignored Blaine's sense of comfort with his insistent pushy-ness about going to the prom, and he never really addressed Sadie-Hawkins, so I tried to resolve that here. This one-shot picks up right after Kurt shows off the kilt to Blaine and Burt, and then storms out of the room. I haven't watched Prom Queen in months, so sorry for any inaccuracies that might be here.**

* * *

><p><strong>Kilt<strong>

Blaine stared after Kurt's angrily retreating back and sighed heavily, Kurt's indignant parting words lingering in his ears. _"If you don't want to join me, I completely understand,"_ he'd snapped in a tone that was defensive and hurt but certainly not understanding. Blaine listened to Kurt's feet thumping in rapid succession up the stairs to his bedroom, and cast an apologetic glance at Burt, who was seated next to him on the couch, looking far more relaxed than Blaine could believe possible under the circumstances.

Blaine was already half out of his seat and was just rising to follow Kurt when Mr. Hummel's voice arrested him, "Not yet."

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked, his brow furrowing at this unexpected remark.

"Don't try to follow him just yet. He'll still be too mad to listen to you." It wasn't ideal for Blaine and Kurt to share their first argument in front of Kurt's dad, but Burt only chuckled at the rather mortified expression on Blaine's face, and Blaine smiled tentatively back as he relaxed into the couch again, deciding to accept the advice without question.

"It's not that I don't want to go to prom with him," Blaine said, wondering vaguely what part of him had decided this was something Mr. Hummel - gruff, reserved, and unexpressive - would want to hear, but curiously unable to stop himself from explaining. "And it's not that I don't want to be seen with someone wearing a kilt, either."

Burt laughed again, more heartily this time, and when Finn yelled from the kitchen, voice muffled by what was clearly a mouthful of food, "I wouldn't blame you if that was why, man!" Blaine couldn't help but join in.

"Don't worry about it," Burt said, patting Blaine's shoulder lightly. "I don't know you that well, but you got me to tell my own kid that he matters, and you make Kurt happy, so you can relax," he said, looking mildly pleased with himself for producing such a speech. "It's not really about the prom for Kurt either. He just wants someone he can do stuff with other than fix cars and watch football."

"I know," Blaine sighed. "I just wasn't brought up to be so flamboyant, gay or otherwise. I'm more classic." He bit his lip and looked warily at Mr. Hummel, hoping that his words hadn't come off as offensive. As outgoing and open as he'd been with Burt, he wasn't about to divulge the real reason he didn't want to attract so much attention at prom, the fear that doing so would result in a repeat of Sadie Hawkins.

To Blaine's immense relief, Burt snorted and muttered, "Flamboyant - that's Kurt, for sure." He caught sight of Blaine casting impatient glances at the stairs, and nodded. "It's been five minutes, I'd say it's safe to go up."

Blaine rubbed his hands on his thighs and made his way up the stairs, suppressing a wry smile when Burt called after him, "Door stays open!" It was unlikely that Kurt would want anything to do with him, let alone something that necessitated a closed door.

He paused outside the closed door to Kurt's room and hesitated, listening cautiously. He was just considering the many good reasons not to enter when Finn's voice drifted up the stairs, calling playfully, "Are you just standing there? You're afraid of Kurt, aren't you!"

The light mockery was enough to get Blaine to rap lightly on the door, calling quietly, "Kurt?"

There was a muffled sound, and then Kurt's voice said, low, "What do you want?"

"Can we talk?" Blaine asked, struggling to keep a pleading tone out of his voice.

"It's fine, you don't have to do that. I get it."

Blaine fought not to roll his eyes and leaned his back against the door, figuring that this would be a while. "I'm not here because I think I'm obligated."

"Really? Because that's the only reason Finn comes knocking after we fight." Kurt answered with a short, humorless laugh.

"Luckily for you, you're not dating Finn."

The door suddenly opened from behind Blaine, and he gave a muffled shout and grabbed at the door frame to stay upright. He turned around, warily meeting the steely, unyielding gaze he received from Kurt. Kurt watched Blaine struggle expressionlessly and then crossed over to sit on the edge of his bed, crossing both his arms and his legs. The top of Kurt's prom outfit was lying on the bed, and on a small table nearby was a glass box of shiny black sequins, leaving Kurt in the skirt of the kilt and a white button down shirt.

"I get it," Kurt said, his eyes chilling and narrowing. "I express who I am. I'm not afraid to be myself. Maybe that's too much for some people."

Blaine's thick eyebrows furrowed, and he frowned, surprised at the ice in Kurt's voice. "I don't know what you mean," he said quietly, taken aback. "You think you're 'too much for me?'"

"I don't know, am I?" Kurt snapped. "You went to an elitist private school where you're all so proud of your identical perfect blazers, and you can't think any further than the Top 40 for song choices, and you're all terrified to be different, so maybe I am! It's not that hard to feel safe in a place where everyone is exactly alike!"

Blaine recoiled as if he'd been struck and backed up slowly until his back bumped gently against the wall. Kurt _knew_ now - he knew about Sadie Hawkins and Blaine had assumed that with it came an understanding that Blaine wasn't just another privileged kid with parents willing to buy his way into an Ivy League university.

Kurt sprang up from the bed the moment Blaine moved and followed after him, eyes blazing, angrier than Blaine could remember ever seeing him, more so even than when Blaine had spilled coffee on Kurt's white Prada cardigan. "You want to walk away? You want to back out of this because I decided to wear something a little unconventional to my prom? _Fine_. Then _go._"

"You think that this is because I'm _ashamed_ of you, that I don't want to spend time with you because of what you're _wearing_?"

"Why else would it be? The more I've talked about this, the more you look like you want to turn and bolt! We don't all want to spend our lives in underwhelming tuxes with conservative thin black ties! Some people think that standing out and being noticed is a good thing!"

Suddenly everything was too close, too smothering, too chokingly _tight_ for Blaine to bear, and all he could see and hear and feel was Kurt, the furious set of his mouth and the flare of his nostrils as he exhaled loudly, his hot breath washing against Blaine's face. And then, before he knew what was happening, Blaine was leaning forward, closing the short gap Kurt had left between them in an instant and crushing his lips against Kurt's.

"You honestly believe I don't think you would look perfect in whatever you wore to prom?" Blaine growled furiously against Kurt. "I'm not the one who cares about clothes. I don't mind wearing identical blazers to school every day because I don't express myself that way. You could go in rags for all I care, and you'd still be the most handsome guy there." Blaine's mouth moved along the length of Kurt's jaw and paused to nudge at his ear and snarl, "Not everything is about _you_. Try to understand for once that I'm not over the moon about this prom for reasons that have _nothing to do with you_. Is that too much of a stretch for your imagination?"

Blaine heard Kurt's sharp intake of breath and - wondering in a panic if in his frustration he'd gone too far - his hands stilled where they'd been gripping Kurt's waist just above the row of buttons along the band of Kurt's kilt. When Kurt only stiffened further, Blaine looked up to see Kurt staring as if right through him, his eyes fixed on something beyond Blaine.

Behind him, Blaine heard Mr. Hummel clear his throat gruffly and mutter something that sounded vaguely like, "Well, you _did _keep the door open."

Blaine's hands left Kurt's skin as if they'd been burned, and he stared in horror at Burt, who looked torn between wanting to shout at them and wanting to turn and leave as quickly as possible. "It looks like you two are getting along now," he commented in a strangled voice.

"Yes!" Blaine answered quickly, just as Kurt crossed his arms and said simultaneously, "No."

They exchanged a frustrated glance, and Burt cleared his throat loudly and nodded, trying and failing to appear as though he was in control of the situation. "Well I'll… leave you to it, I guess…" he muttered, trailing off and then hurrying down the stairs.

"We're not 'getting along,'" Kurt said, stepping back, widening the distance between himself and Blaine. "What is your issue with going to the prom with me?"

"It's not _you_ that's bothering me. It's the fact that it's a _prom_."

Kurt frowned and opened and closed his mouth, apparently dumbstruck. "But you love big, romantic gestures," Kurt said blankly. "A prom is exactly that."

"I already told you. Sadie Hawkins. They beat me up." Blaine crossed his arms, hating that he had to admit this _again_, that somehow the first time wasn't enough.

"But you're… you," Kurt said ineloquently.

Blaine raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Excuse me?"

"You're Blaine, you have it together, you go around picking people up off their feet after they've been knocked down and telling them to have courage and sending them on their way, but you're afraid of a prom. I didn't think you'd really let getting shoved into a couple lockers keep you away from a rite of passage like this." The anger had drained from Kurt's face, but the expression of blank shock and disillusionment that replaced it reminded Blaine why he'd been so reluctant to blur the lines between the roles of mentor and lover in the first place.

"It wasn't a couple of lockers," he mumbled, looking determinedly at a short bit of black thread clinging to Kurt's chest. "I was in the hospital. The boy I went with had a concussion and was there for four weeks. That's why I transferred to Dalton."

Kurt's face paled, and he sank slowly back down onto the bed, biting his lip and refusing to meet Blaine's eyes, apparently speechless. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I should have paid more attention when you told me about that dance. I didn't know it was serious."

Blaine sighed, unclenching fists he didn't realize he'd formed and moving to sit next to Kurt on the bed, carefully setting aside the nearly-finished kilt to make room. "It's not your fault -"

"Yes, it is," Kurt interrupted angrily. "You listen to me going on about every petty argument I have with Rachel, and I could even be bothered to figure out what really happened to you at public school."

"It takes two," Blaine smiled gently. "I hadn't really wanted you to hear everything; you'd have listened if I told you."

"We really don't have to go to prom," Kurt offered, finally meeting Blaine's eyes. "I mean it this time. I truly don't mind."

"And let all this hard work go to waste?" Blaine asked, widening his eyes in mock horror as he gestured at the black folds of fabric Kurt had created. He raised his hand and curved it around Kurt's cheekbone. "I love you, and I'm more proud of you than you know. You went back. I want to do the same."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Blaine grinned and held a finger lightly up to Kurt's lips. "Nope, you have to listen to me now," he grinned. "I want to walk into McKinley holding your hand, and let everyone look at us together, and know that they're staring because you're wearing the nicest outfit at the prom, not because we're gay."

Seeing the hesitation on Kurt's face, Blaine smirked and said, "You wouldn't take away a rite of passage from me, would you?"

A slow smile formed around Kurt's lips in response and Blaine grinned back, leaning forward to whisper in Kurt's ear, "Why don't we finish the kilt together now? There's a lot about it I didn't have a chance to appreciate before."

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><p><strong>I know there wasn't much lust there, hope I didn't disappoint. So I've noticed that I get fewer reviews each time I update... I hope my writing isn't getting progressively worse. Please review!<strong>


	14. Finals

**This prompt is from _Strangeangelsxx_, who I am still so grateful to for giving me so many prompts!**_  
><em>

_Blaine has been cramming for finals for days, and so Kurt (who is back at McKinley for this one) decides to bring him a care package. Blaine finds his favourite colour of Gatorade and decides he loves Kurt._

**When I got this prompt I was, to be honest, not that excited about it. After writing it, I have completely changed my mind! I had a great time with this. I hope you all have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.**

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><p><strong>Finals<strong>

Kurt propped his chin in his hand, shifting so that he was more comfortably sprawled on his stomach across Blaine's bed, and crossed his ankles in the air, surveying the uncharacteristic disorder of Blaine's room. There were dog-eared papers spread out over the entire surface of Blaine's desk, and his books - usually in alphabetized rows on the bookshelf - were scattered on the floor in tall, disorderly stacks that Kurt had had to step over to navigate his way to the bed.

Blaine groaned loudly, and Kurt's eyes flicked over to watch sympathetically as Blaine shoved his hands roughly through his already wild curls of hair and dropped his head onto the desk with a soft _thump_. "I can't stand this," he moaned, his arms up over his head and his fingers still tangled in his hair.

Kurt chuckled lightly and remarked quietly, "I'm glad I transferred back to McKinley before finals."

Blaine raised his head long enough to glare witheringly at Kurt, and then dropped his head back down. "Shut up," he mumbled. "I hate finals."

"I know," Kurt smiled. He stood up, the bedsprings creaking slightly underneath him, and made his way through the cluttered floor to Blaine, bending over to give him a kiss on the top of his head. "You need to take a break."

"I can't," Blaine said, looking up at Kurt. "We can't all be born knowing the date of every battle that ever happened like you apparently were."

Kurt surveyed the dark shadows under Blaine's eyes. Along with the un-gelled hair and the threadbare Dalton sweatshirt he wore, they made Blaine look so different from his usual dapper, full-of-sunshine self. "You don't want to fall asleep during your actual finals, do you?"

Blaine sighed and mumbled, "I guess not." He reached up and trapped Kurt's fingers, which had been gently running through his hair, stilling them. "Stop that, you'll put me to sleep."

"That's what I want, you seriously need it. Come on." When Blaine didn't move, Kurt sighed and tugged lightly on Blaine's hand, coaxing. "At least lie down with me. I'll quiz you on whatever you want."

Blaine stood and allowed himself to be led to the bed. Kurt sat against the wooden headboard and let Blaine lean against him, pulling Blaine close to his chest and draping his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders. "What do you want to study?" Kurt whispered into Blaine's hair.

"Nineteenth century history."

"Okay... Which president ordered soldiers to start the Battle of Tippecanoe?"

There was a long pause, and then Blaine sighed, "I don't know."

Kurt grinned. "That's easy. James Madison. Madison got mad because they tipped the canoe."

Blaine squirmed around to look up at Kurt, pressing his lips together as if he was trying very hard not to laugh. "That's your mnemonic?" he asked incredulously.

"Are you ever going to forget it again?" Kurt listened smugly to Blaine's silence and answered, "That's what I thought."

Blaine tipped his head back against Kurt's chest, and Kurt rested his chin lightly against it, breathing in the smell of shampoo and a light hint of aftershave and the distinctive smell that was only Blaine. An instant later than what would be a normal reaction time, Blaine mumbled sleepily, "That's the problem with history."

"What is?" Kurt asked, his voice amused.

"Everyone's always all mad. That's why I can't get any of it straight."

Kurt's chest quivered with silent laughter, and Blaine's voice, slower and less distinct, floated up, "Stop laughing at me. I know you are even if I can't see you."

Kurt leaned forward to see that Blaine's eyes were closed, his long eyelashes dark against the soft, smooth skin of his cheek. "Okay," Kurt agreed.

"Wha'?" Blaine slurred sleepily.

"Nothing," Kurt smiled, pressing Blaine's head closer to his chest. "You be quiet. I love you."

"Me too," came Blaine's soft answer, and a few moments later there were only Blaine's light snores filling the warm silence in the room.

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><p>An hour and a half later, Kurt looked down as Blaine suddenly jerked awake in his arms, his body tensing as he tried to sit up against Kurt. "Did I fall asleep?" he asked, looking around wildly before he turned far enough to lock eyes with Kurt.<p>

Kurt chuckled and gently pushed Blaine's shoulders back down into a more relaxed position. "It's okay, it's only four-thirty."

"Oh my gosh, I _did_ fall asleep! I fell asleep on you!" he said, sitting back up and turning to face Kurt despite Kurt's hands trying to smooth him back down. "And now your nice shirt's all wrinkled, and I called you over here because I've been too busy to go out much, but then I just studied the whole time and fell asleep! Kurt, I'm so sorry, you just wasted your whole afternoon -"

Kurt, not knowing how else to stop to torrent of words, leaned forward and kissed Blaine, effectively silencing him as the rest of Blaine's apology got lost between their lips. "Don't you dare say sorry again for letting me spend the afternoon with a very handsome gentleman asleep next to me." Kurt raised his eyebrows, waiting for Blaine to protest, and when he didn't, Kurt kissed Blaine's forehead, grinning triumphantly. "I'd love to stay and let you fall back asleep, but I can't be late for another Friday night dinner."

Blaine was getting up to walk Kurt to the door when Kurt stopped him by holding up a finger and reached down behind the bed to produce a basket with a red ribbon tied around the handle. "What's that?" Blaine asked, surprised.

"It's for you, to remind you not to work too hard after I leave."

Blaine sat cross-legged on the bed and bent over the parcel, lifting out each object carefully, smiling at the package of Red Vines and appreciatively sniffing the Earl Grey tea bags, but pausing when he came to the red bottle of Gatorade. He looked up at Kurt then, eyes shinning happily. "You remembered! It's my favorite."

Kurt smiled, secretly happy and proud that little details like that could make Blaine so pleased. "I still don't understand why you'd want to load up your body with that colored rubbish, but I do know what you like."

"I love you," Blaine sighed, pulling Kurt into a hug and nuzzling his face into Kurt's neck. "Thank you for knowing me so well."

"Anytime," Kurt breathed, wrapping his arms around Blaine and inhaling deeply. He closed his eyes and held on a moment longer, pretending that he need never let go.

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><p><strong>I know the history stuff is super-cheesy, but I was studying for my own History class right before I wrote this, and I couldn't help but throw it in there. I guess it's not so canon now that we've seen all the history books and globes in Blaine's room in the <em>Michael<em> episode, but I was too lazy to change it.**

**I have a question for everyone: is it boring when I write about episodes from a really long time ago? I can't seem to put out any episode-centered stories in a timely fashion, so I don't know if I should attempt them at all.**

**A special thanks to _Sebtana _for her very kind review. It made my day.**

**Keep the prompts and reviews coming, everyone! Y'all are my teenage dream.**

**And yes, I'm in a ridiculously cheesy mood today. ;)**


	15. New York

**Another update! Before I get to the prompt, thank you all so much for being patient and reading and sticking with the story. A special thanks to _Stormaggedon, Strangeangelsxx, Canadian-23,_ and_ Nutella Alchemist _for being great readers and reviewers and prompters who I can count on to keep coming back.**

**Prompted by _cole5148:_**

_It's not Jessie that follows Rachel to New York, it's Blaine surprising Kurt. Maybe after they find out 12th place._

**Not my best chapter, but not my worst either. Enjoy.**_  
><em>

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><p><strong>New York<strong>

Blaine stepped out of his cab onto the busy New York streets and took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and enjoying the warm wind against his face. He'd been in the city for fifteen minutes, and already, it was intoxicating. It was so _alive_, so full and vibrant and pulsing with the lifeblood of activity that was so clearly there in the purpose with which the people around him moved and spoke and carried themselves. It filled Blaine's veins, too, like adrenaline, and he felt like he was living for the first time.

The blaring horn of a car further down the street snapped Blaine out of his reverie and he opened his eyes to realize that people on the sidewalk were stepping aside to move around him while he stood transfixed in the middle of New York City, eyes closed and grinning blankly.

He cleared his throat gruffly, feeling foolish, and pushed his way through the revolving door into Kurt's hotel. He paused and stared around in wonder at the elaborate luxury of the hotel, and wondered vaguely how the New Directions had ever paid for this by selling salt water taffy.

"Can I help you?" the tall, mustached clerk at the desk asked.

Blaine startled and glanced at the slip of paper in his hand where he'd scribbled down Kurt's room number. "I'm visiting #511?" he said, making it sound like a question. The clerk genial's genial expression shifted curiously, and he nodded. "It's the third on the right when you get off the elevator," he informed Blaine. "Good luck."

Blaine puzzled over the odd parting words as he stepped into the elevator, but when the doors slid open at his floor, he knew why immediately. Even from there, he could hear Santana screaming furiously in Spanish, her voice piercing over the disgruntled rumbling of several other, equally angry people.

Blaine reached their open door and stared at the pandemonium within. Santana was struggling to lunge at Rachel and Finn, while a number of hands on her arms and shoulders restrained her, all of them shouting at each other and none of them being heard. In the back of the room, behind Santana, Kurt was perched on a bed, glaring at Rachel and pressing his fingers to his temples as if his head hurt.

Blaine paused and cleared his throat uncomfortably over the disorder, suddenly unsure if he'd be welcome in the hotel room. Before he could doubt his presence, however, Kurt's head snapped up and his eyes lit up as he saw Blaine. He rose and maneuvered between Santana and Rachel to the door, slipping his arms up and crossing his wrists behind Blaine's neck, beaming.

"You came," Kurt whispered, kissing Blaine breathlessly. "You're here." Even with their faces too close together to see each other properly, Blaine could hear the smile in Kurt's voice. A moment later Kurt paused and drew back slightly, asking, "What are you doing here?"

Blaine chuckled and snaked his arms around Kurt's waist, pulling them both out of the doorway and turning until his back was against the wall of the corridor. "I guessed that a week with the New Directions might drive you a little crazy, and I thought" - Blaine paused to trail kisses along Kurt's jaw - "that we could get away together." They leaned their foreheads against each other's and breathed heavily, enjoying the closeness and intimacy they'd been craving for the past week. "I guess I didn't realize just how out of control they would get." Blaine craned his neck back around to cast a glance at the Glee club inside the hotel room, all of them still viciously arguing.

"Let's get out of here," Kurt whispered. "We're in New York. We can go _anywhere_."

Blaine grinned and reached across, taking Kurt's hand and running eagerly down the hallway with him as they had at Dalton on that very first day. "Show me all the great places," Blaine urged once they were outside in the cool, breezy spring weather.

Fifteen minutes later found them at Times Square. "It's better at night, when everything's lit up," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear as they sat next to each other on the tall steps that Kurt told him they'd stopped at on their very first day in the city.

"I have a hard time believing that it can get any better than what it is right now," Blaine murmured, looking around with the eyes of someone who was seeing for the first time. "Can you just imagine, years from now when we have -" Blaine stopped short abruptly, realizing barely soon enough how close he'd come to saying _when we have kids and live here _and internally scolding himself for almost scaring Kurt off by how far into the future he imagined them together.

He looked up at Kurt, very aware of how warm his neck and face had grown, and saw Kurt gazing across at him and smiling quizzically. "Have what?" he asked, running his thumb over the back of Blaine's hand.

"When we have Broadway careers," Blaine answered quickly, covering in what he believed was a smooth manner.

Kurt, however, appeared unconvinced, and stared a moment longer before replying vaguely in a way that Blaine didn't think was a direct response to what he'd actually said, "I can't wait to watch all of our dreams come true together."

"Me neither," Blaine said, cursing the fact that he was nervous around Kurt for the first time in weeks and that his hands were sweaty.

He was just about to shift slightly away when Kurt reached for the hand he didn't already have and turned to face Blaine fully and look him directly in the eyes. Kurt took a deep breath and then said, all in a rush, "I love you!"

Blaine's eyes widened in shock and amazement, but then a moment later he was beaming so widely it hurt and squeezing back hard on Kurt's hands to make himself _feel_ that this was real, and murmuring, adoration in his voice, "I love you, too."

A pretty, rosy flush appeared in Kurt's cheeks, and he laughed breathlessly, his eyes sparkling happily and revealing his ecstasy. "You never asked how we placed at Nationals," Kurt said suddenly.

Blaine shrugged, both boys still unable to keep their smiles off their faces. "I figured it wasn't good news when I saw the state of your team members."

"We were twelfth," Kurt said, chuckling and shaking his head ruefully. "Because Finn and Rachel decided it would be wise to make out on stage. We'd all been doing so well up until that, too. We might have won."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, his expression sobering while he gave Kurt another little squeeze.

"Don't be. I'm not. I'm in Times Square with the one person I want to experience it with. What on earth do we have to be sorry for?"

In that moment, gazing at the skyscrapers and billboards and, most overwhelmingly astounding of all, Kurt himself, Blaine couldn't agree more.

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><p><strong>I know it was short, but I couldn't figure a way to make something more out of it, so my apologies.<strong>

**Now, not to be a complainer, but I'm going to go ahead and complain anyway - I'm barely getting any reviews for this; I used to get four or five, and now I'm lucky to have one. I know from my hits that you people are out there somewhere reading this... so review!**

****Thanks for putting up with my whining. Happy Easter if you celebrate it, and have an amazing day all the same if you don't!****


	16. Jealousy

**Prompted by _Strangeangelsxx_:**

_Kurt is excited to go shopping with Blaine, and gets jealous when a salesperson (can be a guy or girl) gets flirty with Blaine._

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><p><strong>Jealousy<strong>

"Just get them, Blaine. You won't regret it."

Blaine looked doubtfully at the bright red fabric Kurt rubbed between his index finger and thumb.

"I'm not going to wear those," he insisted, glancing nervously to the side at the nearby customers and trying to shove the pair of pants back out of sight between the other, less conspicuous clothes hanging on the rack. It was the first time they'd gone shopping as a couple, and Blaine wished that he'd pushed for their usual coffee date instead of letting Kurt loose in the mall.

"You need to own something besides identical blazers. If you transfer schools in the fall - I know you still might not - _if _you do, you're going to want clothes respectable for public school."

"Yes, because the student body at McKinley is going to be _so_ receptive to a gay guy dressed in tight, hot-red pants. Have you forgotten that you live in Lima, Ohio?"

"This is exactly why you need the pants," Kurt concluded ridiculously, pointing between Blaine and the pair of pants as if Blaine had somehow just established a connection between them.

"How do you come up with that?"

"Because you need to know that you can be yourself even when you're not at Dalton, and not worry about what other people have to say about it. The New Directions have each other's backs, you'd be fine."

Blaine shook his head, still unconvinced, but he let his eyes linger on the pants for a moment longer this time.

Kurt followed his gaze and grinned smugly. "You know you secretly want them. Come on. Just try them on. For me?" Kurt looked up at Blaine and widened his eyes purposely in a transparent attempt at begging.

It was the hopeful, eager glint in his expression, more than the deliberately pleading face, that made Blaine sigh and agree, shaking his head ruefully.

"Thank you!" Kurt almost squealed, grabbing the clothing off the rack and then throwing his arms around Blaine for a moment in a very short, tight hug. "You're going to be so glad you did this."

"Don't be so sure about that," Blaine warned, but he was laughing as he did so, and he let Kurt take his hand and tug him away.

"The dressing room is the other way," Blaine reminded.

"I know," Kurt answered absentmindedly, halting in the middle of the store and gazing around. "We're missing something." His eyes scanned the rows of clothing sharply, and then suddenly lit up. He walked over to a rack and plucked a narrow, neon yellow belt from it.

"You can't be serious," Blaine said, staring in horror at the bright color. "Are you sure those colors don't clash or something?" He looked between the pair of pants and the belt and then up hopefully at Kurt.

There was no such luck, because Kurt shook his head and said confidently, "No, it would if it was on me, but this was made for you. Now we just need to find you a shirt."

"What's wrong with the one I have on?" Blaine asked, looking down in outrage at the forest green Polo shirt he'd chosen that morning specifically because he knew Kurt particularly liked the way the color complimented his eyes.

"Nothing's wrong with it _now_, but you'd look ridiculous if you wore it with these pants."

"I think maybe what you're trying to say is that the pants just plain look ridiculous?"

Kurt ignored this and put the tip of his index finger thoughtfully between his lips as he scrutinized Blaine, looking him over critically. Then he nodded as if he'd made up his mind about something, and declared, "I've got it. You'll actually like the shirt - I promise."

Blaine allowed himself to be led through the racks of clothes until Kurt lifted a surprisingly understated black, short-sleeved, button-down shirt and held it up for Blaine to see. "Is this okay?"

"Do I have a choice?"

When Kurt nodded quiescently enough, Blaine narrowed his eyes and actually considered the shirt, staring at it hard. "Is there a trick here? It looks… normal."

Kurt beamed triumphantly and added it to the clothes already draped over his arm. "I told you that you'd like it."

Kurt nearly dragged him to the dressing room, and then thrust the clothes into Blaine's arms. "I don't want you to see yourself until everything's on and you come out to look in the big mirror out here, okay?" Kurt instructed.

Blaine gave him a perplexed look before he agreed and disappeared into the stall. There were the sounds of clothes falling to the floor and being slid off hangers, and then Blaine called out, half laughing, "It's a little hard not to look at myself when there are mirrors on either side of me."

"Then close your eyes if you have to."

"Okay, okay," Kurt heard Blaine mumble, and then, a moment later, "What's the difference?"

"You need to see the full effect, all together, or you'll think it doesn't look good and refuse to try everything on. I'm serious here, don't make me come in there to make sure you're not cheating."

"Don't worry, there's no need for that," Blaine assured him, tugging on the pants, which were surprisingly comfortable despite being very tight, and then tucking in the shirt. He groped around for the belt and fumbled to loop it around his waist without looking down at himself. "Is this belt really necessary?"

"Yes," Kurt said, so quickly that Blaine was sure he hadn't had time to even consider the question. "You have to learn to accessorize. I can't believe that two years in a school uniform destroyed your sense of fashion so completely."

"It's possible to accessorize subtly, you know," Blaine pointed out.

"It's also possible to switch up your outfit by doing more than alternating bowties."

Kurt expected Blaine to argue with this, but instead the stall door swung open and Blaine stood in the doorway, eyes still closed. "Can I look yet?"

"Hang on." Kurt placed his hands on Blaine's shoulders and, with gentle pressure, maneuvered him until he was facing the big mirror at the end of the row of changing stalls. "Okay." Kurt's hands disappeared from Blaine. "You can look now."

Blaine opened his eyes and was surprised by the person smiling at him in the mirror. He'd expected to see an uncomfortable-looking stranger in the reflection. Instead, he saw himself, but a confident, bolder, and - though he felt silly realizing it - very good looking version of himself. The black shirt was like something Blaine might have chosen for himself, but it clung to his chest and bared his arms, highlighting the muscles that were toned from years of boxing. The pants were scandalously tight, but in an attractive way, and though they were so bright that they almost hurt to look at, the neon in the belt made them oddly just right.

"See? You look good."

"I should have trusted you," Blaine murmured in Kurt's ear, slipping an arm around Kurt's waist and pulling him close for a quick kiss on the cheek.

Blaine changed back into his clothes and was heading to the check-out when Kurt leaned in and whispered, "You know, you're going to _have_ to transfer now."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Because you need opportunities to wear this outfit." Kurt reached up and squeezed Blaine's bicep lightly. "You can't keep on hiding all this under a blazer."

Blaine's pleased flush hadn't quite faded from his cheeks as he left Kurt to wait by the exit and deposited the clothes on the cashier's counter, pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

"Hey there," said the girl behind the register.

"Hey." Blaine flipped open his wallet and thumbed through the bills inside, glancing up for the price only to see that she hadn't scanned the items yet. "How much is this going to be?" he asked absently, tapping his hand on the stack of clothes.

Before he could move his hand away, hers was on the clothes, too, her fingertips overlapping with Blaine's just a bit in a way that seemed almost deliberate. Blaine looked up in surprise and met her eyes. She was younger than he'd assumed from her low, husky voice - probably eighteen or nineteen. She lowered her eyelids slightly over ice-blue eyes and looked up at him from underneath her long, thick lashes, withdrawing her hand and tucking her waves of deep red hair behind her ear. "Sorry," she said, and took the clothes, passing the tags across the scanner.

She paused when she got to the pair of red pants and held them up, pursing her full lips and then glancing over at Blaine as if she was imagining them on him. "Good choice," she said, leaning across the counter confidentially, as if sharing a secret. "Wish I could see you wearing these, I bet they look hot on you."

Blaine chuckled uncomfortably and nodded, unsure what he was supposed to say to that. A mere _thanks_ seemed out of place.

"Not that you need much help in that department."

Now he looked up at her again, arching an eyebrow and wondering if she was ever going to let him just pay for the clothes and get away.

"My name's Ruby, by the way."

Blaine glanced at the long, red hair and covered his mouth slightly with his hand, trying to hide his amused smile. _That can't possibly be her actual name_.

A moment later, however, Blaine regretted the gesture, because the motion drew her attention back up to his face, and now he was sure that she was staring at his lips, looking at him like a predator stared down a piece of meat. He felt a flush creeping up his neck, and it only intensified when it struck him that that reaction was the opposite of helpful at the moment.

"That'll be $42.79," she said, this time being the one to recall Blaine from his musings.

Blaine fumbled for the money and shoved a fifty dollar bill across the counter hurriedly, not bothering to count the change she handed back to him. She tore his receipt from the register and scribbled something quickly along the side of it in big, loopy handwriting with a pen that had been lying nearby.

"There you go," she said, handing him the slip of paper.

Blaine glanced down at it to see that she'd written down her personal phone number, and just when he was certain that he couldn't possibly turn any redder, she purred, "Don't hesitate to call the number. We have _very_ good customer service."

Just then, a cool arm slipped through Blaine's and Kurt said smoothly, "Hey, baby, ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah," he stammered, grabbing the shopping bag and trying to pretend that he hadn't heard Ruby call out, "Bye, stranger!" to his retreating back as Kurt dragged him out of the store.

As soon as they reached their car in the parking lot, Kurt let go of Blaine and spun him around by the elbow. "What _was_ that?" he spat.

"That was Ruby."

"She was flirting with you."

"I know, it was so creepy." Blaine chuckled, the exchange oddly amusing now that it was over. "She told me they had good 'customer service.' What kind of a pick-up line is that?"

"Whatever," Kurt snapped testily, and stalked around the front of his car to get into the driver's seat.

Blaine frowned after him, perplexed, and slid into his side. "Are you mad?" he asked.

"Now, why would I be mad?

Blaine raised his eyebrows and waited.

"Maybe it's because you enjoy getting attention from total strangers!"

"She's just a sales clerk that I'm never going to see again," Blaine said, bewildered by the sudden hostility.

Kurt narrowed his eyes sharply. "So was Jeremiah."

Surprised at the venom in the three words, Blaine said blankly, "Just because they're both flirty cashiers doesn't mean I'm going to fall for Ruby."

"Oh, so you _fell for_ Jeremiah?"

Blaine sighed and shook his head incredulously. "You can't be serious." Kurt crossed his arms and looked away, the set of his mouth supremely irritated. The expression was vaguely familiar, and suddenly Blaine realized, "Are you _jealous_?"

"What?" Kurt said, looking back over at Blaine in mock surprise. "Whatever about a ridiculously unsubtle cashier hitting on my boyfriend would make me jealous?"

"Kurt," Blaine said, reaching forward to take Kurt's hands, "She's a girl. I'm not attracted to her."

Kurt mumbled something indistinctly, and when Blaine tipped his head slightly and furrowed his brow, Kurt repeated more audibly, "Being a girl didn't stop you with Rachel."

Blaine laughed quietly under his breath at the preposterousness of the situation and shifted his grip to hold both of Kurt's hands in one of his own, using the other to turn Kurt's face gently towards him, forcing him to make eye contact.

"_Kurt._ Ruby doesn't interest me. And it's not because she's a girl. She doesn't know me better than I know myself, the way you do. She doesn't insist on kissing my knuckles after every boxing session. She doesn't zig when I think she's about to zag. You do. I love _you_."

Kurt was trying to look away again, but this time Blaine was sure it was because of the rosy blush glowing on Kurt's cheeks. "Not yet," Blaine said gently, keeping his hand under Kurt's chin. He tipped Kurt's face up and leaned across the console to kiss him very softly and tenderly on the lips. "I love you," he whispered against the sweet-smelling skin of Kurt's neck as he trailed kisses along the edge of Kurt's jaw. "Don't ever doubt it, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt whispered back breathlessly, reaching over to wrap his arms around Blaine's neck, the bag of clothes and the receipt between them forgotten.

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><p><strong>I know I ended up just describing Blaine's "It's Not Unusual" outfit for the shopping, but I was being too lazy at the moment to think of original things they could be buying... and then I remembered Cooper's comment about Kurt picking out Blaine's clothes, and decided that it could work.<strong>

****Thank you to all of my lovely readers who obliged and reviewed last chapter when I asked for more feedback! You guys are great, and it makes my day to see your review notifications popping up in my email.****

****Also, thank you to my anonymous reviewer who gave me a bunch of really amazing prompts! I am so looking forward to writing them (some are among my favorite prompts so far), and I wish that I had a way to credit you more specifically. I hope you're still out there reading this.****


	17. Prom

**This update is really a combination of three prompts, two from _cole5148_ and one from a friend of mine who gave me some general suggestions and ideas. Here are the two prompts:**

_Prom moment, when one of them comes down the stairs and they see each other in their formal wear for the first time._

_Right after Kurt saw Blaine's performance?_

**Since I already have two chapters that are about the prom (Chapter 6 - Prom Queen and Chapter 13 - Kilt) and I didn't have many thoughts on how to expand these prompts into something bigger, I decided that they would work best when put together. And since this was prompted before their senior prom aired, this is about their junior prom.**

**Keep the prompts coming and enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Prom (Part 3)<strong>

Blaine raised his hand to knock on the Hummel's front door and then waited, his fingers toying nervously with the cuff of his tux. He looked anxiously down at the gold-wrapped box in his other hand and wondered for what felt like the millionth time if it had been the right thing to get. Before he could regret the choice, the door swung open and Burt stepped aside to let Blaine in.

"He's still getting ready," Burt said by way of explanation when Blaine walked into the living room and saw that Kurt was not yet there.

Blaine sat down on the couch and tried not to fiddle with the box in his hands, not wanting to muss the carefully tied navy ribbon.

"Nervous, kid?" Burt asked, returning from having called up the stairs for Kurt to hurry up and crossing his arms, leaning against the wall opposite Blaine.

"A little." Blaine chuckled honestly. "It means a lot to Kurt."

"It means a lot that he's getting to go with you," Burt corrected, his voice stern but kind.

"I want to make it perfect for him."

"You already have. How often is he going to find a guy that will go to prom with someone in a kilt?"

"I can hear you!" Kurt's voice echoed down to them, and Blaine looked up to see Kurt at the top of the staircase, leaning against the banister, beaming, his face so bright and eager and _alive_ that it almost hurt to look at.

Kurt flitted down the stairs on the tips of his toes and stopped at the bottom to twirl before Blaine, displaying the finished kilt as Blaine saw it fully finished and on Kurt for the first time. The pleated skirt flared out around Kurt's white legs as he flashed a smile and held up his arms as if to ask Blaine what he thought.

His nerves and Burt forgotten, Blaine crossed the living room in a few quick strides and captured Kurt's face delicately between his hands. "Have I ever told you that you're amazing?" he whispered, gazing up at Kurt with shining, ecstatic eyes.

"You like it?"

"I love it," Blaine grinned, skirting around what he really wanted to say, that he loved _Kurt_. Blaine remembered the gold-wrapped box and stepped back a bit, placing his hands on Kurt's shoulders and looking him over at arm's length. "It's missing a little something, though," he said, narrowing his eyes critically.

"Did it need a few more sequins?" Kurt asked, a hint of concern coloring his expression and his teeth moving to worry his soft lower lip.

Blaine reached for the box and drew it open with a flourish in front of Kurt. "I was thinking more along the lines of this." Kurt's eyes widened as he stared down at the two pink corsages lying nestled into the layers of white tissue paper lining the bottom of the box.

"I know we decided that you'd be in charge of outfits," Blaine explained, "but you can't go to prom without a corsage. Is it right?"

"It's perfect."

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><p>Kurt was vaguely aware of an agitated turmoil in the center of the gymnasium and thought that he might have heard Finn shouting at someone, but as he stared, mesmerized, up at the makeshift stage erected at the front of the gym, he couldn't make himself care.<p>

Of course Blaine was not always perfectly dapper and classic, but the version of him that was performing now was one that Kurt had never gotten more than a glimpse of, for a moment when they were singing Animal and their eyes had met across the deserted warehouse.

Blaine's hands were alive, thrilling even from a distance, like beings of their own. They slid down the shaft of the microphone stand, skating along the metal and then curling around it near the base as if it was his dance partner. Blaine's normally hazel eyes were dark, the irises blown, making them meet Kurt's delighted gaze even more intensely, as if Kurt was the only person Blaine saw in the crowded room. His legs were magic, bending in ways that Kurt hadn't known were possible as he gripped the mic stand.

By this time, the arguing elsewhere in the gym had grown quite distinct, and Coach Sylvester's voice had joined the din. Kurt smirked slightly as he thought he heard her shouting the names "Sugar Eight" and "Marvelous Marvin," but he kept his eyes fixed on his boyfriend as Blaine belted out the last word to the song and then dropped to his knees on the stage, his face alight with the thrill of performing.

Blaine hopped off the stage and made his way over to Kurt, breathing heavily.

"You were fantastic," Kurt said, his voice lower and hoarser than usual, grabbing Blaine's hands and squeezing them tightly, both very conscious of their surroundings and wishing that they could do more.

"You are the boy I've been dreaming of ever since I was a little boy," Blaine told him softly, his voice holding the seal of a vow as, with that sentence, he became the hopeless romantic that Kurt was more familiar with.

* * *

><p>"I'm exhausted, Blaine," Kurt sighed as he unlocked his front door and stepped inside. "I know we made a bunch of plans, but I kind of just want to…"<p>

Kurt trailed off and rubbed at his eyes wearily, and Blaine smiled and finished for him, "Unwind?"

Kurt barely nodded before he began wandering up to his room without a word and tossed his crown and scepter carelessly into a corner, the cheap metal clattering against the floor. Kurt began slowly taking off the top of his outfit, and Blaine wordlessly grabbed the change of clothes he kept in one of Kurt's empty drawers and went into the bathroom to change.

When Blaine reemerged, Kurt was seated on the edge of his bed, his back to the bathroom door, dressed in a loosely fitting cotton shirt and old, threadbare sweatpants. Blaine seated himself behind Kurt and reached up, placing his hands on Kurt's shoulders and slowly pushing the heel of his palms in slow circles into Kurt's muscles, massaging around the base of Kurt's neck and then down his back.

When Kurt's posture became no less stiff, Blaine leaned forwards and whispered "Relax," into his ear.

"I can't _believe _them," Kurt said tightly. "They couldn't give us one perfect night. That's all I wanted."

Blaine weighed his words carefully before speaking softly against Kurt's ear, "I danced with the most talented, brave, beautiful boy in Lima, Ohio. _My _night was perfect."

Kurt's back shifted, and Blaine could tell from it that he was smiling. "Thank you."

"I'm just telling the truth," Blaine said smoothly, his hands moving down and under Kurt's arms to wrap around his torso and clasp in front of his belly.

Kurt sighed and the tension drained from his shoulders suddenly as he slumped back against Blaine as if all the energy had been sapped from his body. "I'm sorry, I just want to sleep," Kurt said, turning part way around and smiling apologetically over his shoulder at Blaine.

Blaine released Kurt and slid underneath the covers, holding them up for Kurt to join him.

"Dad's going to make you sleep downstairs," Kurt mumbled, even as he nestled back into Blaine's chest.

"Then I'll stay until he does." Blaine's arms tightened his embrace and he hooked one of his legs around both of Kurt's, holding him as flush to his body as possible, wishing it could somehow be enough to shield Kurt from everything that had ever wished him ill.

Eventually, Kurt's face grew peaceful as his body lapsed into sleep and his breathing evened out, and Blaine looked down fondly at the boy in his arms and whispered the words he'd been aching to say all night long. "I love you."

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><p><strong>I hadn't done a first I-love-you for one of these prompts in a while, it was kind of fun to do one again.<strong><br>****

**For those of you who are _Harry Potter_ fans, I have created a forum called the Room of Requirement. It can be found here: forum/The_Room_of_Requirement/112160/ It's quite new so there's not much there yet, but feel free to check it out.**

**Thanks for reading! Review?**


	18. Perfect to Me

**Prompted by _strangeangelsxx_,**

_Kurt and Blaine are driving from Lima to Westerville, singing along to the radio, Kurt decides he loves Blaine's goofy facial_ _expressions_.

**My mind just took off with this prompt and went somewhere totally strange and unexpected, and I liked where it ended up, so I went with it. Because of that, at first this will probably seem like it has nothing to do with the prompt because of my bizarre apparent need to insert angst into _everything_ I write, but there is plenty of fluff at the end, so I think this should satisfy everyone. The only thing I couldn't make work was the goofy facial expressions. But I think it ended up being worth it. I hope you all agree.**

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><p><strong>Perfect to Me<strong>

The hallways were dim and empty and filled with the faint echoes of the celebrating voices of the graduates in the gym and the cliché music that Principal Figgins had arranged for after the Glee club's live performance. Blaine slipped a finger in between his buttoned collar and his throat and ran it back and forth impatiently, tugging at the confines of his bowtie. The choir room was all too silent behind its closed door, and Blaine tried to remind himself that it was possible they just hadn't opened the envelopes yet. That the lack of jubilance didn't necessarily mean that none of their dreams had come true. Kurt had been so very particular as they had walked to the choir room together that he not try to look in through the narrow window in the door to see who'd gotten into their schools. It was an experience shared only between the graduates, something that Blaine couldn't empathize with no matter how much he wanted to, and Blaine had nodded and squeezed Kurt's hand and pretended that he didn't feel at all excluded.

Now, Blaine pressed his back against the lockers opposite the choir room and struggled to comply, his anxious fingers undoing his bowtie rather roughly and shoving it into the pocket of his blazer because he couldn't _breathe _and it was becoming impossible to simply stay still and wait and do nothing_. _Just when he thought that he couldn't possibly occupy himself with fidgeting any longer, Rachel slowly opened the door, and Blaine's gaze swept past her face and settled on Kurt's.

One glance at his expression transported Blaine to the same place in the previous year, and suddenly Kurt might as well have been the crushed, betrayed, newly-elected prom queen that he'd been then. Though his face was thinner and sharper and a year older and very carefully composed, lurking just behind his eyes was the same destroyed person that had been there on the night of his junior prom.

Blaine watched as Finn gave Kurt a light, one-armed hug before removing his arm from Kurt's shoulder's and then stepped forward as Rachel and Finn moved away in the direction of the parking lot exit. "I'm sorry," Blaine murmured in Kurt's ear, trying to pull him into a hug.

"I didn't get in," Kurt said quietly, resting his chin on Blaine's shoulder.

"I think he's in shock," Finn tried to mouth the words, and Blaine felt Kurt smother a humorless chuckle against his neck when the sentence came out very audibly. "He hasn't said anything else since he opened his letter," Finn whispered loudly.

Kurt drew back and rolled his eyes at Blaine dismissively, but the wicked light in his eyes that usually accompanied the gesture was missing, and Blaine couldn't help but shoot a panicked glance at Finn while he smiled absently at Kurt and realized that, despite Kurt's apparent calm, he indeed _hadn't_ said anything but that.

Finn widened his eyes as if to say _See?_ and took Rachel's waiting, outstretched hand. Blaine tried to take Kurt's hands in his as well, but stopped when he saw the rejection letter, rolled up and still clenched tightly in Kurt's fist. "C'mon," Blaine coaxed, gently trying to loosen the fingers wrapped unyieldingly around it.

Kurt looked down at his hand as if he hadn't realized what it was doing and stiffly uncurled his fingers, letting Blaine smooth out the paper and fold it into the pocket of his blazer. "Let's go." He interlocked his fingers through Kurt's on the hand that had held the NYADA letter and began to walk toward the parking lot, pausing as he unlocked the door to glance up at the sunny sky, so blue it hurt his eyes to look at, and wonder how anything could be so bright and beautiful when all of Kurt's meticulously nurtured plans were crumbling around him. Blaine slid into the driver's side of Kurt's car wordlessly, and Kurt moved like a man in a dream to the other side.

Blaine shifted the car into reverse and backed out the narrow parking spot, pulling away from the school, sending anxious glances at Kurt's still-stunned face every once in a while. He headed towards his empty house in Westerville, knowing how exhausting it would be for Kurt to pretend to be politely appreciative of the graduation celebration that Burt had arranged.

"I didn't get _in_," Kurt repeated again, the panic beginning to rise in his voice.

Blaine swerved abruptly into a dead end and parked along the side of the road, ignoring the horns that blared behind him at his sudden maneuver. "You should have," he said fiercely.

"I'm not disappointed."

Blaine raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to question that, but Kurt held up a finger and said, "I'm just angry. At _Rachel_." He turned and looked almost fearfully up at Blaine. "What kind of selfish is someone who gets mad at their best friend for getting into their dream school?"

Blaine opened his mouth to say that Kurt was being entirely reasonable, but Kurt beat him to it by taking a deep, angry breath, his nostrils flaring, and forging on, "But she didn't deserve it! Do you know how many people get to redo their NYADA auditions even once? _None_. And she did _three times_. Rachel is so used to having everything just because she's spoiled and annoying and _talented_ enough to always have her life turn out perfect."

Kurt paused to take another breath and allowed himself to meet Blaine's eyes, a touch of insecurity cracking his anger now. "Winning Nationals was supposed to mean that we're not the underdogs anymore, right? But look at us. Santana got into a college but had to choose what she really wanted over it, Brittany's not even graduating, Finn is as lost as he was at the beginning of this year, and Rachel is the only one whose dreams are all coming true. But she was never an underdog here. She pushed everyone in Glee club around so that she could have her way, and now everyone else's futures are on hold while she gets _exactly what she wants_. Just like always." Kurt looked helplessly up at Blaine, slowing down as his anger ran down to end of its fuse and fizzled and sputtered. "How is that fair?"

"It's not," Blaine said, his voice hard. He knew that Kurt didn't really mean what he'd said about Rachel, that later he would feel guilty for even thinking it. Yet still, there had been a note of truth in what he'd said that made the words all the more bitter and raw, one that Blaine was still just enough of an outsider to the New Directions to hear. "You'll have your turn, I promise."

"Are you sure? I'll never have what Rachel does. People see her and it's what they want. That's not something you can learn. You just have it or you don't, and I obviously don't."

"You're as much a star as she is, Kurt," Blaine said, and Kurt smiled and nodded absently, but it was clear that he didn't trust the words.

Blaine fiddled with the radio dial of the car to fill the silence while he tried to piece together an assurance that Kurt would actually believe. But when the static-riddled bars of a song's chorus filled the air between them, he stopped breathing for a moment and paused, because it was suddenly clear that that song was the only way Kurt could see in himself what Blaine had known was there since he'd watched Kurt perform "Blackbird" so long ago.

"_Pretty, pretty please,_" Blaine began singing along. "_Don't you ever, ever feel like you're less than, less than perfect._"

Kurt's breath caught and he stared, clearly hearing what Blaine hadn't found the words to say himself.

"_Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing, you are perfect to me_." Blaine's voice grew more sure as he realized over again just how _right_, how true it was, and he moved on along the lines that Kurt was usually the one to sing. "_So complicated, look how big you'll make it. Filled with so much hatred._"

Blaine's voice froze in his throat in surprise when he heard Kurt chuckle lightly at that. Kurt's sweet harmony picked up the note before the pause became noticeable and continued, amusement still apparent in his voice, and Blaine knew with equal certainty that this time, Kurt was using the song to speak to him. "_It's enough, I've done all I can think of, chased down all my demons, seen you do the same._"

Blaine joined in the laughter as he remembered Finn and boxing and tainted slushies, all the memories of the past year tinted slightly comical against the gravity of graduation and their futures looming too close to be complacent, easy dreams any longer. He chimed in again and they finished out the song together, singing and laughing together until they were out of breath as the last note played across the radio.

"Do you mean it?" Kurt asked, his eyes no longer colored by any hint of bitterness or anger, only mild disappointment still, brightened by gentle adoration and humor.

"With all my heart." Blaine reached for Kurt's wrist and pressed Kurt's hand, palm facing him, to the center of his chest, and then dipped his head to kiss the white knuckles.

"I love you," Kurt whispered. "Thank you for always knowing how to tell me what I need to hear."

"I'll never let you forget it," Blaine vowed.

* * *

><p><strong>Reading this over now, it's a lot more sappy than I remembered it being when I wrote it at midnight last night. Oops. Oh well. And I know the dialogue got kind of rant-y and preach-y, but given the circumstances, Kurt should get to rant a little bit, right? And <em>Glee<em> seems to be the master of having long-winded dialogue that nobody would ever really say, so I figured it was at least consistent with the fandom.**

**Did you like my take on this, or should I stick to my prompts more closely in the future? Let me know! My apologies to _strangeangelsxx _if this was not what you were wanting/expecting when you gave me the prompt. And keep prompting, everyone! Prompts are always open.**

**Oh, by the way, I didn't get many reviews last chapter. Do I need to beg at the end of every update? I will if that's what it takes. ;)**


	19. Keep Yourself Together

**My apologies for the long hiatus from updating. The prompt I'm doing today isn't the one that was next in line chronologically. Originally I wrote this in June and intended to just have it ready for when it was this prompt's turn to be done, but my mind wouldn't cooperate with writing anything else until I got this finished and posted. Prompted anonymously by someone who was awesome and gave me a bunch of prompts all at once:**

_Blaine comes to school with bruises from his dad and Kurt comforts him and tells him he loves him._

**Chapter title is from the song _Keep it Together_ by Tyler Ward and The CO. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Keep Yourself Together<strong>

Everything was normal until it wasn't. Blaine and Kurt were sitting in lumpy armchairs in the corner of the school library during their shared study period, pretending to themselves that they were doing English homework while playing hangman in the margins of Kurt's notebook. One moment, Blaine was laughing and reaching over to draw a hat on Kurt's hangman figure, already replete with fingers and toes and a face as Kurt struggled to guess the last three letters of the word.

The next moment, the right sleeve of his shirt had slid a couple inches up his forearm as he reached across the table, and Kurt had gasped and grabbed at Blaine's arm, holding it in place, staring in horror at the purple bruise on the delicate skin of his wrist.

Blaine yanked the fabric back down over his wrist as if doing so could erase the ugly purple mark there and tried to pull away, but it was in vain. Kurt was staring as if he could see right through the shirt to what was underneath it, and his jaw clenched visibly before he asked in an eerily flat voice, "Blaine, who did this to you?"

"Let go of me," Blaine mumbled, trying again to tug his arm away.

"_Blaine_."

"It's nothing!"

Kurt turned his eyes up to look at Blaine, his eyebrows raised and his mouth pursed in disbelief and rage. "Tell me _who did this to you_."

This time Blaine succeeded in tearing free from Kurt's grip, but he couldn't unpin that piercing, ice blue gaze from him, or even look away. "Stop staring at me like that," he said.

Kurt's gaze softened, and Blaine hated the tinge of pity in them. "Or like that," he spat.

"You can tell me."

Blaine flinched and tried to look away. He could resist Kurt's anger, but this… "Just leave it, okay, Kurt?" He crossed his arms stiffly across his chest, pulling his sleeve further down again as he did so, as if that mattered anymore.

"I'm not going to leave it." And now Kurt's voice was gentler, but the familiar steely note of his unyielding, pushy, always-get-my-way personality was back, too. "Was it Azimio? Rick the Stick? Come on. Just tell me whoever it was and we can get them expelled. We can make sure it never happens again."

And then everything became worse, because Kurt thought it was someone at _school_, and, knowing Kurt, he'd take matters into his own hands and tell the Glee club so that they could all exact justice on whoever Kurt decided the culprit was. "It wasn't anybody." Kurt rolled his eyes, and Blaine added in a rush, "It wasn't! It… I- I got it boxing."

He looked up at Kurt, trying to appear honest and maintain eye contact. "And I didn't want you to know because I don't want you to think that boxing is dangerous or something." Blaine knew it was a weak excuse, could hear the lack of conviction in his own voice, but at least continuing to talk meant that Blaine didn't have to stare into those stupid pitying eyes in silence.

Kurt sighed and reached forward, gently coaxing Blaine's tightly crossed arms loose and brushing Blaine's sleeve back with his thumb to reveal the bruise again. "Look at it." Blaine grudgingly turned his head and stared down at his skin, feeling oddly disconnected from it, as if the arm wasn't part of him. "Those are finger prints. That's not a boxing injury." The tip of Kurt's index finger tenderly traced the four spots where the bruise purpled to nearly black, and then he turned Blaine's arm over and lifted it to brush his lips very lightly over the livid thumb print on the smooth, white underside of Blaine's wrist.

"Please," Blaine almost begged.

"Please what? Ignore this and walk around happily knowing that I'm letting someone beat up my boyfriend?"

Blaine flinched from the words, wishing for the first time that Kurt didn't have to always be so blunt about everything he said. "He's not beating me up," Blaine mumbled reflexively.

Kurt caught onto the instant of weakness immediately. "Who isn't?"

Blaine swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. It felt like it was full of sand. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

"But we can go to Principal Figgins, he can take care of it-"

"No, Kurt. This isn't something you can just make go away for me. When I say I can't, I mean I _can't._" Blaine knew as he said the words that already this was too much, too far, but by then, some self-destructive demon inside him _wanted_ Kurt to know, and all the survival instincts Blaine had couldn't stop him.

He could literally _see_ Kurt piecing it together, little bitter comments dropped here and there, the few short exchanges he had seen, the times Blaine averted his eyes during a conversation… "Did your _father _do this to you?"

And then couldn't Blaine speak, couldn't even deny it, though he knew by now that that would be useless anyway. He tried to look at Kurt but found that he couldn't, and hated that Kurt had forced him to put this between them. How could they be a normal couple when Kurt would never look at him again without that pity distancing them? "Can you just forget it?" Blaine hated his voice for shaking.

But Kurt wasn't listening. He was frozen, his hand against his lips in horror, whispering something inaudible under his breath over and over again.

"Kurt?" Nothing. "Kurt, c'mon, say something."

"I didn't notice."

Blaine frowned, surprised. "What?"

"You're my boyfriend and I didn't notice. I'm supposed to notice these things."

Blaine sighed. Of course Kurt would find a way to feel guilty, as if _he'd_ done something wrong. "I didn't want you to know."

"I should have known anyway." Kurt stared at the bruises that Blaine hadn't bothered to cover again and then continued, "Abuse isn't supposed to look like this."

Blaine's mouth quirked into a humorless smile and he rubbed his thumb comfortingly over Kurt's white knuckles, clenched into a fist on the table. He asked, a quiet laugh in his voice, "What's it supposed to look like?"

"Black eyes. I don't know. You're supposed to be able to see it."

"I don't think anyone thinks that abuse is supposed to be something you can see, Kurt," Blaine said gently.

"It's not funny!" Kurt burst out suddenly. "Why are you being so… so _complacent_ about this?"

"What do you want me to be?"

"I don't _know_!" Kurt nearly screamed. "I want you to act like it matters! Like _you _matter. You got my dad to tell me not to throw myself around like I don't matter. So where do you think you get off letting _your_ dad throw _you_ around like you don't matter?"

"_Shhh_," Blaine hissed, glancing anxiously around the library. It was relatively empty, and nobody appeared to have heard Kurt.

"I know I matter," Blaine explained once he was sure that they'd gone unnoticed. "I'm going to get educated and get into a good college and find a job I love and then I won't need him or anyone else. But until then-"

"Quit lying to me," Kurt snapped. "You need to get out of there. You've heard the lectures about it at school. I can't believe you're letting this happen to yourself. You're smarter than this. I know you love him, but that doesn't mean you can let-"

Blaine jerked away sharply. "You don't know _anything_," he retorted in a low, fierce voice. "I don't love him. I don't want anything to do with him. What kind of a son does that make me? What I want is a _future_. And I hate that I have to get that from my _father_." Blaine swallowed and forced himself to speak past the tightening in his throat. "But I don't know how else I can have one." He stood up, the turn of the conversation sickening. "The bell's about to ring, we better hurry up."

Kurt started and looked around himself at the library, as if he'd forgotten where they were. "Come home with me, we can skip the rest of the day. We need to talk about this," he said.

Blaine crossed his arms and sighed, struggling to compromise. "I'm going to class. Nothing's changed, there's no reason for me to miss half a day of school. We can talk later, okay?"

"You're sleeping over tonight. Burt will bend the sleeping on the couch rule once I explain-"

"You're not explaining anything to him," Blaine interrupted forcefully.

"Some adult should know-"

"I don't need anyone's help," Blaine insisted. "Everything is fine the way it is."

"You're not fine."

Blaine closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, trying to be patient. "Telling people isn't going to make me fine."

Kurt looked at Blaine thoughtfully. "Okay, but please be honest with me from now on?"

Blaine nodded, grateful that Kurt had phrased it as a request and not a demand.

"No more secrets?" Kurt asked.

"No more secrets."

* * *

><p>Kurt had been gracious enough to act normally for the rest of the day, singing along with him to the radio in the car on the way to the Hummels' house, chattering with him through their homework about Rachel's predictable song selection for the week's assignment, and then smiling happily with him through dinner with the rest of the Hummel-Hudson family.<p>

But eventually, Finn and Burt settled down in front of a football game, and Carole curled up between them on the couch with a book in her hands, and Blaine could think of nothing else to busy himself with in order to avoid Kurt. Blaine was leaning against the counter in Kurt's bathroom, having long finished changing into a soft white t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms, but unable to make himself just open the door and walk into Kurt's bedroom. He could hear Kurt moving about in the other room, drawing the blinds, opening and shutting drawers, the main light clicking off, and then Kurt's voice called out, "Blaine? You've been in there for twenty minutes. I even had time to finish my moisturizing routine."

Blaine sighed and called softly, "I'm coming." He stood up straight and, reminding himself that he couldn't stay hidden in the bathroom forever, stepped back out into Kurt's bedroom.

The room was dim, lit only by the warm glow emitted from a small lamp next to Kurt's bed. It softened the room, somehow, and Blaine hoped that this would become easier here in the dark than it had been in the too-bright, too-public library.

"Get in," Kurt offered, propping himself up against the headboard of his bed and then lifting the corner of the covers up for Blaine invitingly.

Blaine nestled in next to Kurt, curling into his side and allowing Kurt to wrap an arm around him and draw him even closer. "I want to protect you from everything," Kurt whispered into Blaine's hair. "And I hate it when I can't."

Blaine laughed gently under his breath. "It's not your job to do that, Kurt."

"It should be your parent's job." Kurt said, his voice growing more firm, but still tender. "Everyone deserves to have at least one person who has their back. I don't know how you can be laughing about this, it's not funny."

Blaine shut his eyes, wanting to disappear. "I know it's not," he finally whispered. "But if I let myself realize-" his voice choked off and he took a deep breath and tried to feel like he wasn't suffocating under the unbearable weight of the _realness_ that was suddenly inescapable. "So I laugh," he finally finished, hoping that Kurt would be able to fill in what he wasn't able to make himself say aloud. "Even when I don't feel like laughing. Because that's something I can control."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Blaine's voice was steady again, the fleeting moment of raw pain having passed as he got himself under control and plastered his façade back on. He felt Kurt's skepticism and sighed. "It's not that bad," he tried to explain. "I know- I _know_ that that's what people say," he hurried on when he sensed that Kurt was about to protest. "But it really isn't. Most of the time my dad doesn't know I exist and we both prefer it that way. I'm happy."

"Most of the time," Kurt repeated.

"Yeah."

"And the rest of the time?"

"I have it under control."

"You're wrong. You're worth more than most of the time."

Blaine looked up to see Kurt staring pensively ahead, his eyes thoughtful and sad. "Don't worry about me," Blaine tried to convince him. "I don't need anything."

"Everyone needs to be loved."

Blaine stiffened.

"Even you," Kurt continued, placing a tender hand on the top of Blaine's head and pressing it against his chest. "And at least I can give you that. I know you like to be the one that has it together, but you don't always have to be."

"I know that," Blaine dismissed him, trying to sit up against Kurt.

"No, you don't know it. Listen to me," Kurt said, holding Blaine against his chest, wishing that the arms he wrapped around his boyfriend were enough to protect him from everything that wanted to hurt him. "You don't always have to be that person. Not with me." Kurt tightened his embrace, trying to show with physical contact how much _there_ he was, that he'd be there for forever. He pressed his lips lightly to Blaine's head, murmuring lovingly into Blaine's curls of hair.

_This is the person who gave you the courage to leave McKinley_, Kurt realized, looking down at the boy in his arms as Blaine's tense muscles gradually loosened and relaxed. Kurt pressed another kiss into Blaine's hair, and with it, promised himself that he would do whatever it took to make Blaine unafraid. To show him that he was loved. That an _after_ existed. That his life would not end when he left his father. That his life would just be beginning. Aloud, Kurt whispered, "I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope I managed to do justice to such a serious topic and make it in character. Please review!<strong>

**Also, during my long break from writing this story, I started another one titled _How Bittersweet._ Set 6 years into Klaine's future and after they've broken up, it's about Blaine suddenly finding himself in need of Kurt, and deals with the two of them trying to sort out their feelings for each other and find out if they can still have a friendship/romance. Feel free to check it out if you're interested!**


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